


Pieces of Me Fit Pieces of You

by Geekthefreakout



Series: Of Gods and Kings and Broken Things [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Civil War Fix-It, Einar: Horse OC, Everyone Needs A Hug, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Mid-Credits Scene Compliant, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), WinterFrost - Freeform, eventually, past Bucky Barnes/OMC mentioned, tony and Steve are gonna talk we'll see how that goes ok?, well sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 65,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekthefreakout/pseuds/Geekthefreakout
Summary: Loki and Bucky both know what it is to have their minds ripped apart and stitched haphazardly back together again. When Asgard comes to Earth, and Thor has a whole bunch of litigation to cut through... Loki needs a place to stay. Luckily, Wakanda is already housing one fugitive...





	1. How Do You Solve a Problem Like Loki?

The Statesman floated ever closer to Earth- it would not be long, now, before they were within range to speak to Earth’s representatives and let them know about the 4500 refugees heading their way. Thor was excited. He was more cheerful now than he’d been on their whole, long journey. Bruce was in good spirits as well- he’d transformed back into himself about a week after Asgard burned, and he’d been looking forward to finally wearing his own clothes and sleeping in his own bed, and maybe groveling some at Nat’s feet for the Hulk disappearing both of them off into Space for two years. In fact, there was only one person on the Statesman who wasn’t abuzz with excitement… Loki.

Loki, if anything, had grown increasingly agitated as their journey drew to a close. While Thor seemed happy to forget it, Loki remembered that he would be unlikely to be welcome on Midgard. There, he was a war criminal, a villain of legend. Humans had short lives, but long memories- not enough time had passed for his past there to be irrelevant. Thor may have thought that the Midgardian’s regard for him would allow his dark little brother to pass onto the planet unscathed but… Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had a grudge against him. More than that, that second-rate sorcerer with the sad little beard would likely drop him through a portal to Odin only knew where the moment he stepped foot on the planet, and then Loki would be forced to kill the man, and murder was not the best way to endear a people to a planet.

Clearly, his brother needed a reality check.

Loki strode regally onto the bridge of the ship, bypassing Heimdall, stepping over Miek and waving off the Valkyrie, who was passing a bottle of… something between herself and Korg. Thor and Bruce were standing by the great window, with Bruce exclaiming excitedly about the planet Saturn passing by and Thor chuckling, ever indulgent of his mortal friends.

“Your Majesty,” Loki said formally. “I would speak with you.”

Thor turned his one good eye to regard his younger brother.

“Such formality, brother? What are you up to? It’s not necessary.”

“What I am up to, brother, is a bit of forethought that you apparently do not intend to engage in. And the formality may not be necessary in this moment, but it will be soon. You may as well get used to it.” Loki admonished, then turned his attention to Bruce, who was looking nervously between him and Thor. “I believe your input would be valuable as well, Doctor Banner. If we three may speak privately?”

Thor and Bruce shared a look, then Thor nodded and led them all to a storage area which had become the King’s “office.” It was cramped, but they could at least all stand without touching one another, and it afforded them privacy.

“What is it, then?” Thor asked, leaning back against the wall with an air of little concern.

“You have surely noticed that our journey is coming to an end—we are nearly within communication range of Earth.” Thor nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but Loki held up a hand. “May I inquire as to what your approach to the situation will be?”

“Well, I shall attempt to raise Stark—he is most likely to be able to receive our call. He and Fury will be able to find us a place to land—”

“And you’re certain we will be allowed to land, are you?” Loki interjected, brows raised high.

“Of course!” Thor frowned. “I told you, they love me on Earth.”

“Yes, Thor, they love you. I imagine they will be somewhat more ambivalent towards thousands of refugees and the villain that once laid siege to one of their greatest cities. Humans may be short lived—no offense to present company intended, of course,” Loki turned briefly to Bruce, who shrugged, arms crossed, “but their memories are not so short as to have forgotten the damage I did years ago.”

“He’s right, you know. I mean, it’s been a couple of years, but immigration was sort of a hot button topic when I left. When the Hulk left, I mean.” Bruce turned to Thor. “And the team can do a lot of things, but I’m not sure they can just negotiate a small country’s worth of space for you. And that’s leaving out the complication of, well…” Bruce waved a hand at Loki. “I think we have to be realistic here. People are going to want him to be locked up or something. They’re not really gonna care about any recent heroic turns or, like… tragic backstories.”

“And I’ve no intention of being locked up.” Loki said firmly. “I’ve had enough of that. Nor do I intend to prostrate myself before that wannabe sorcerer—”

“Wait, who?” Bruce wanted to know, but Loki waved him off, gazing intensely at his brother.

“You need a plan, Thor. A diplomatic approach. For the sake of our people, I will be on my best behavior. I have given you the Tesseract, my best means of escape. I am prepared to stand at your side. But you may not be able to stand at mine- not at first. So I ask again—what will you do when we reach Earth’s airspace?”

Thor’s plan, as it turned out, was only slightly changed by Loki’s concerns. He still intended to approach Stark first, but he would get the lay of the land first. Rather than approaching Earth directly, The Statesman would hover in the vicinity of Mars. Heimdall and Loki would work together to access the Bifrost and send Bruce and Thor to Earth, where they could speak to Stark personally, get him and the rest of the Avengers on their side before what was left of Asgard made its approach. To Loki’s surprise, Thor decided that he needed his younger brother’s input to prepare for this meeting.

“They are my friends and shield brothers, but I am no diplomat. Whatever pretense you may have been using… it is you that was King for four years, not me. I need your skills. You kept Asgard and the realms in relative peace… the statue and plays were weird, though.” Thor said, nudging Loki’s shoulder. Loki stabbed him in the side with a pen, and then began to draft an address suitable for a King. “Perhaps less stabbing while we establish ourselves, brother.”

And so Thor and Bruce were teleported unsteadily to Earth, Loki’s address in hand. They came to rest outside the Avenger’s compound. They entered, and FRIDAY addressed them immediately.

“Welcome back, Point-Break and Doctor Banner. I will notify the boss that you are here. Please wait in the front room.”

When Tony came out to greet them, Thor and Bruce were both startled to find him looking more tired than they’d ever seen him.

“Nice of you two to drop by. I guess there’s a couple of long stories to share around the campfire?”

And so they sat, soon joined by Rhodey, and exchanged each other’s news.

“Wait, you’re saying I disappear for two years and everything goes to shit? What the hell, Tony?” Bruce exclaimed.

“Save your what the hell for after my what the hell, Bruce. How many homicidal siblings do you _have_ , Thor? And what do you mean you’ve ‘brought Asgard to Earth’ do you mean you have literally a planet full of super powered people that you want to drop off in my backyard because that isn’t going to—”

“On the contrary, Stark, what remains of Asgard is less than the number of people that would fill one of your smaller cities, and most nowhere near as powerful as I. And anyway, _technically_ Hela is dead and Loki has been really well behaved lately, so my homicidal siblings are not as numerous as you might—”

“Okay, okay, pump the breaks there, King Thunder. ‘Loki has been really well behaved lately’ is your standard for if we can trust him even being on this planet? And _you’re_ okay with this? Seriously, you’re sitting there wearing my clothes and acting like this is okay, are you gonna back me up here or what?” Tony turned to Bruce, gesticulating wildly. Bruce shifted uncomfortably, tugging a bit at the too-short sleeves of the jacket he was wearing.’

“Look, Tony, leaving Loki and his history aside for now… what I know is that there are about 4500 people who have been trapped for almost two months on a space ship that some overpowered megalomaniac used to use for orgies, who have just lost their home and everything they’ve known. It’s been tight quarters, a whole bunch of technical difficulties that I could not just ‘throw one of my PHDs at,’” and here Bruce shot a small glare at Thor, who rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “And some how we all made it here. No one tried to kill anybody. Hell, even the Hulk didn’t smash anyone, and no one was awful to him. We made it here. Because it’s the best hope they have, Tony. And without Loki… I don’t think anyone would have made it off Asgard. In fact, there’s a good chance that Hela could have brought herself, her zombies, and her giant goddamn wolf _here_ if Loki hadn’t shown up when he did and given us all a way to escape, so that, y’know, we could blow up the source of her power.”

“The source of her power being a planet.” Tony stated, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, it was actually pretty flat for a planet, I don’t know what we’d classify it as—”

“Yes, Stark, the source of my sister’s power came from the Realm Eternal itself. My father explained as much before he died. And so it became necessary to destroy our home. But Asgard is not a place—it is a people. And right now, those people need your help. As your friend, I am asking- I need the Avengers.” Thor finished, looking at Tony in earnest.

“Tony…” Rhodey said, taking in the pure stress on Tony’s face. Tony waved him off.

“Look, this isn’t even… I don’t make these kinds of decisions, okay? That’s what the U.N. is for, that’s why I signed the Accords. There aren’t any Avengers any more. There’s just me, Rhodes, a couple of possible friends in retirement, and a bunch of fugitives.”

“Tony.” Rhodey said more firmly, while Bruce’s eyes opened wide and Thor looked discouraged.

“What? What do you want from me, Rhodey? I’m not a king, I’m not a god, I am a man in a suit trying to keep the peace and have some accountability.” Tony snapped. Then he looked at Thor, and sighed. “Look, just… I’ll speak to Ross, alright? I’ll get you in front of the UN council and you can make your case, and I’ll push it through so you can at least let your people camp out over here in shifts so they can get some fresh air. That’s all I can promise. But your psycho brother needs to stay away from here. Away from the planet, in fact, maybe away from the entire solar system.” When Thor opened his mouth to object, Tony held up his hand. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Point Break. And right now, you’re begging. So figure out what to do with him, because I’m not touching it with a 10 foot pole.”

What Thor had to do, he decided, was get more perspective. Leaving Bruce and the address Loki’d drafted with Tony to begin the negotiations process, Thor asked Heimdall to help him seek out Steve Rogers.

When he found Steve, it was in a run-down motel in a small town in Italy. He was surprised and pleased to see Thor, and invited him in to sit at the small table the room provided and share some coffee.  Thor went through the same rote explanation of events that he’d given Tony, explaining that he’d left Bruce at the compound soothing Tony’s ruffled feathers. Steve was, as always, an excellent listener, making sympathetic noises in all the right places and not staring at the patch over Thor’s missing eye. He let out a low whistle when Thor wound down by explaining the refugee crisis he’d brought to Earth’s doorstep.

“That’s going to be a rough run, bud.” Steve commented, leaning back in his chair. “I would help, but Tony probably told you that I’m currently… out of favor with the world powers. I’m not Captain America anymore.” Steve gestured to the bed, where his uniform lay, darker and dirtier than Thor remembered and with the star at the center of the chest torn off, leaving only an imprint behind. “I’m a Nomad now.”

Thor nods, going to rub a hand over his bereaved eye before thinking better of it- he can almost hear Loki now, telling him to quit picking at it. He gazes around the room with his one good eye before turning back to his friend.

“I am sorry that I was not here. Perhaps I could have brokered peace between you all… although, perhaps not. Peace talks were never my strong point. I would just hit something with my hammer to get my way. It’s Loki that has the silver tongue.” Steve frowns at the name, and Thor meets his gaze steadily. “It is why I need my brother now. I am King, and all the responsibility to my people rests upon my shoulders. I had abdicated, previously. I preferred to travel, to be here on Midgard with you all, with Jane. I was not ready for the throne. I still am not ready, but now I have no choice. If I am to rule well, I will need a sharp mind at my right hand— and no one’s is sharper than my brother’s, when he is well.”

“And when he’s not well?” Steve asks quietly. They both sit in silence for a moment before Thor leans forward—exhausted, Steve thinks.

“I do not know, friend Steve. As it stands, he tried to kill me—but he has done that in the past, and I’m not sure he’s ever really meant it—he has betrayed me, which he has not done in the past, not until the last decade, at any rate, and he has saved my people. He kept peace on our ship in impossible situations, at my side. He handed over the tesseract into my keeping, though he could have kept on as he was and I never would have known he had it—”

“Wait, the Tesseract? You’ve brought it back to Earth?” Steve interrupted, suddenly alarmed.

“Ah, technically speaking it is in the vicinity of Mars at the moment. It was in Asgard’s vault at the time of Ragnarok, and Loki used it to save himself. He kept it secret for longer than I would have liked, but that he came clean at all is a goof sign, is it not?” Thor looks hopeful, but at the same time some measure of the optimism is forced. Steve nods slowly.

“So do you think Loki will betray you again?”

“Most likely. It is in his nature—he is not the God of Mischief and Chaos without reason, you know. The nature of that betrayal—I hope, I pray to the Norns that it is some small mischief, as of old. You have only known him as the villain he was in New York, though I believe that that particular attack was not his own idea. In hindsight, it was too poorly thought out to be one of Loki’s own plans, and he was not in his right mind then. When we were younger, Loki was often mischievous to the point of his own detriment, but he was never cruel or careless of the lives of others as he was that day. At the time, I could not see past my own anger to realize he was not himself.” Thor narrowed his single eye at Steve, searching his face for something. “I hear that you know what it is, to have a loved one so out of control.”

Steve exhaled through his nose, his mouth twitching.

“Bucky. He was my best friend, before the serum. I thought I lost him during the war, before the ice. Turns out he wasn’t as dead as I thought.”

“Ah. I know the feeling.” Thor nodded sagely, sipping his coffee.

“Hydra got a hold of him. Brainwashed him. He did a whole bunch of awful stuff. He… he killed Tony’s parents. But it wasn’t him. It was the Soldier. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let them take him away, punish him for something he couldn’t help. Maybe I could have talked it out better, but at the time… keeping him safe was all I could think of, you know?”

“I think I do.” Thor leaned forward on his arms. “Tony says that he will do his best to help my people, but not if Loki is involved in the deal. Not yet. I need to figure out how to keep my brother safe, Steve. He will be on his best behavior, so he says, and I believe him sincere, but he will not consent to be locked away in a prison. Nor could I in good conscience allow it again—he has paid his share in time and blood.” Thor sighed. “But I must do what is right for my people; all of my people.”

“Of course.” Steve agreed. Thor gave him a shrewd look, and Steve cleared his throat, glancing away for a moment… and then, having come to a decision, glancing back.

“Look, try talking to King T’Challa of Wakanda. They’re a quiet, secretive people and an incredibly advanced country. T’Challa has a good heart, and his people are strong. Between the medical technology and the defensive systems, I don’t think there’s a better place on Earth. It’s where Bucky is.”

Thor leaned back, nodding in consideration. He gestured for Steve to continue, and there was something oddly regal in the gesture—something that made Steve realize for keeps that he was not just talking to his super powered friend, but to a King.

“Make your case to T’Challa and his council. I can help you get an audience with them. I’m not making any guarantees but… from the sound of it, Loki and Bucky aren’t as different as I would have thought. And if I’m going to stand for something, I stand for it whole heartedly. We both have to look out for our brothers, right? They… they deserve a chance to redeem themselves. To _be_ themselves. Don’t they?”

Thor gave Steve a warm smile and a clap on the shoulder.

“They do indeed, my friend. If you could make the arrangements for me, I would be most grateful.”

Only a few hours later, Thor found himself being led to T’Challa’s throne room by women in red, with spears in hand. Steve followed behind him, a steady presence at his back. If all went well, Loki could abide here for a time, while everything else got sorted. They entered a large, round room, where an array of people sat in a semi circle, with the man that must be King T’Challa seated on a throne in the middle. Thor greeted the man as a fellow royal, with a hand clasped over his heart and a polite bow. T’Challa rose from his throne and gave a similar greeting, and welcomed him to Wakanda with a warm voice. He then greeted Steve as he would an old friend, and then settled back into his throne to hear Thor’s case.

Thor found himself unsure of where to start, repeating the basics that he’d given Steve and Tony of the destruction of his home, and the complicated diplomatic situation with the Asgardian refugees and his brother.

“Correct me if I am wrong, King Thor, but I am given to understand that your brother executed an act of terrorism in America some years ago, and has not paid for his crimes.”

Thor fought the urge to fidget, remembering lessons from so many centuries ago—A king must stand firm, a king must be confident. A king must not doubt his purpose.

A brother must defend his brother.

“It is somewhat more complicated than that, Your Grace.” He said, and then Thor launched into explanations about the Infinity Stones, and how four had surfaced on Earth in only the past few years, and how he believed, from the little he could get from Loki, that the attack on New York was not Loki’s sort of venture, not on his own.

“To be frank, King T’Challa, if my brother had in truth meant to conquer this world, and had all of his wits and reasons about him while attempting to do so, we’d not have known about it until he succeeded. Instead, he purposefully gathered the mightiest people on the planet and made it tremendously obvious what he intended to do… and in truth, Your Highness, my brother possesses great magic. He used only a fraction of it during the battle. I am not saying that he let us win,” Thor said quickly, turning to Steve, who was frowning, “I am merely saying… that he hoped to lose. There are greater powers in the universe than I, or even Odin All-father. I believe my brother fell into the thrall of one of those powers- a Titan. He will not speak much of it, but I know it troubles his sleep.”

“If what you say is so, you still ask much of Wakanda.” A woman who’d been introduced as T’Challa’s mother, Ramonda, spoke up. “You ask us to hide a criminal whose power may be a danger to us and our people.”

“Queen Ramonda, T’Challa, if I may.” Steve stepped forth, hands clasped behind his back, ever the soldier. “I fought alongside Thor in New York. I also had a difficult time with Thor’s claim that Loki would not be a threat. But I’ve gotta point out… you’re already hiding criminals. You’re hiding me, and Bucky. I appreciate the risks you’ve taken to do so. Bucky can be dangerous, if he’s not in his right mind, but your people have helped make him less of a risk, and more himself. Princess Shuri saved my best friend… my brother. I think you are more than capable of doing the same for Loki. And if he tries anything, well…” Steve looked at Thor apologetically, but then returned his gaze to the royal family. “I think we can handle it.”

Thor looked hopefully at T’Challa, who stared at both he and Steve with a sort of cat-like intensity, before exchanging a look with his mother and then gracefully standing. He waved his hand, and the women around him- the Dora Milaje, they were called—stood at attention.

“Bring your brother here. Let him speak for himself. And then we shall see if we have a place for him.”

            After a few moments of Thor communicating with Heimdall, Thor lead the royal family out into the courtyard and bade them to stand back. There was a flash of light and the smell of burnt grass, and Loki was standing there before them, tottering a moment before finding his proper footing.

            “A lack of access to the Bi-Frost direct has made our watcher’s landings far less gentle, Thor, did you notice?” Loki said, addressing his brother first before turning his head to the strangers behind him. “The royal family of Wakanda, I take it? I am Loki, of Asgard. It is an honor.” And Loki swept into a graceful bow, bobbing up to meet the eyes of a wary Steve Rogers.

            “And the Captain as well. My, my, this is quite a reception.” Loki’s smile was all teeth, a warning glance from Thor barely phasing him. “I understand that you have offered your hospitality while my brother attends his kingly duties.”

            “That is yet to be decided.” T’Challa said firmly. He considered Loki. “Your reputation proceeds you, trickster.”

            “It often does.” Loki shrugged. “To change the past is impossible—or at the very least, it is generally unwise. What would you have me do?”

            “Your brother seems to believe that you were not of your own mind when you attacked New York. I would have you tell us if this is the truth, or a mark of his love for you.” T’Challa said, arms crossed in front of him.

            “I would say it may well be both—what reason have you to believe me?” But after another pleading look from Thor, Loki relented. “The truth, Your Highness, is that my brother is a sentimental fool—but he knows me well. I will admit that my time in New York is… something of a blur. I had two Infinity Stones close at hand, both of which affected the minds of those in close and prolonged contact. I will not willingly speak of what brought me to Earth that day, but for the sake of my brother and my people, left homeless by the Death Goddess herself, I will pledge upon my troth that while I am here on Earth, I will do harm to no human, unless in the direst need of self-defense. I will pledge upon my troth that I will not knowingly commit any act to the detriment of Wakanda or her people. Will you hear my pledge, King T’Challa, and bind me to it?”

            Thor was gaping at his brother- such a pledge was not made lightly, and he is quite certain that those words had never left Loki’s lips. He could not help but speak.

            “Are you certain, brother?” And Loki turned to him with a scowl.

            “I would not speak so if I were not certain. Do we not need this, Thor? Are our people not desperate? Is this not the only way to ensure peace, to keep me out of some thrice-damned cell and in a position to be your right hand, should you need me? Or do you think I risk life and magic on a whim?”

            “To pledge upon your troth, we do not have such customs here.” T’Challa said. “What does it mean? How will this pledge mean more than any other from your lips?”

            “If my brother makes a pledge upon his troth, and breaks it… his magic would turn in on itself. It is a fate worse than death, and his soul would not walk in Valhalla at the end.” Thor said numbly, still staring at Loki in amazement.

            “As my brother says. Though now that we have killed the death goddess herself… who knows, what will come of my soul? At any rate, if you will hear my pledge, I will make it. My life on the line for the good of Asgard. I believe that, at least, is a sentiment with which all of us here are familiar.” Loki said, his piercing gaze sweeping over the royal family and Steve. T’Challa looked at his mother, who gestured as if to say “It’s up to you,” and then over to Steve, who met his gaze and then nodded his approval.

            “Very well, then. I shall hear your pledge.” T’Challa ruled. Loki bowed his head in gratitude, and Thor let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Loki knelt where he was and then—

            “Wait a minute!” A teenage girl rushed forward, a screen hovering above a bracelet of beads on her wrist. She belonged to the royal family, Thor guessed.

            “Shuri…” Ramonda sighed, and Thor started, realizing this was the princess that had helped Steve’s friend.

            “For research purposes, Mother.” Shuri insisted. “I wonder if there will be a change that I can record as the pledge is taken. This sort of magic, it is new.”

            Loki smiled at the girl from where he knelt on the ground, a smile that was less toothy and more genuine.

            “She is curious, brother, like Banner, and your Jane. I wonder if all mortals are so. I do not mind. Do your research, young one. I too am interested in what you pick up with your device.”

            Shuri grinned and inched closer, taking readings of Loki, of Thor, of the singed grass, and of her brother rolling his most royal eyes.

            “Well go on, pledge away.” She chirped. Loki’s face became serious, and after a glance at Thor, he placed his hand over his heart.

            “I, Loki, Prince of Asgard, Rightful Heir to the throne of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, Odinson, hereby pledge upon my troth that while I am on Earth I will do harm to no human, unless it is to save my life or the life of my brethren. I will take no action and speak no silver words that would be to the detriment of Wakanda, or to her people. This I pledge. Do you hear this pledge, T’Challa, King?”

            Fascinated, T’Challa nodded. “I hear it.”

            “And do you accept it?”

            “I do.”

            There was the faintest golden glow around Loki, and it swirled around him, just barely touching T’Challa. Then it receded, and Loki stood, brushing grass from his knees and pushing his long hair behind his ears.

            “It is done, then. Are you satisfied?” T’Challa nodded and Shuri was already twirling away, saying that she had to get the recording to her lab, disregarding all protocol about taking her leave from visiting royalty. T’Challa shook his head after her, then turned to address his guests once more.

            “As Captain Rogers pointed out, I am already harboring a fugitive. It seems only fitting that my second fugitive stays in the same spot. I have matters to attend to, but I’m certain you can escort Prince Loki to Sgt. Barnes’ farmhouse, can you not, Steve?”

            “You want them to stay together?” Steve sputtered.

            “Will that be a problem?”

            “Uh… no, sir. No problem, just surprised me.” Steve said, casting a vaguely suspicious eye in Loki’s direction.

            “Very well then. I will leave you to it.” T’Challa bowed his head to Thor, and walked away, speaking with his mother. Steve cleared his throat, and then gestured at Thor and Loki.

            “Might as well follow me, I guess.”

            Steve led the brothers to a trolley that carried them away from the city, to a group of farms. From there they walked to the furthest one, where a man with long brown hair and a single arm stood feeding an apple to a horse.

            “How you doin’ Buck?” Steve called, and the man called Bucky turned to face them, smiling.

            “Not bad, considering I’m what- 100 years old- and still working the farm.” The one arm wrapped around Steve in a hug, which Steve returned heartily. Blue eyes peeked over Steve’s shoulder and locked with green. Bucky pulled away gently.

            “You brought friends?”

            “Well,” Steve began, only to be cut off by Loki.

            “I believe a more appropriate term is roommates- at least as far as I’m concerned. Sargent Barnes, I presume?” Loki asked, one regal brow arched high on his forehead. “Or do you prefer ‘Bucky’?”

            “Uh… Bucky. My name is Bucky. I’m sorry, you said something about room mates?”

            “Mm. Like you, I am… perceived unkindly by the governments of your world. While my brother here goes about his Kingly duty and gets that all sorted, I believe you and I will be sharing quarters. Oh, what a handsome horse!” Loki then blew past Steve and Bucky and laid his hand on the horse’s face, looking quite content.

            “Um….”

            “I’m sorry about this, Buck, it’s only for a while. He’s gonna be on his best behavior okay? One foot out of line…”

            “And you’ll fight him in an alley behind the theater?” Bucky smiled. “Relax, Steve. I’m a big boy, you know. Always have been, in fact, unlike some.”

            Steve punched Bucky’s shoulder, and introduced him to Thor. The three made conversation until Thor had to take his leave.

            “Thank you, Steve, and you, Bucky, for looking after my brother. I will return as soon as my duties allow.” He raised his voice. “Loki, I am leaving now.”

            Loki did not look up from the complicated braid he was plaiting into the horse’s mane. “Good riddance, then.”

            Thor sighed, then smirked.

            “Hopefully when I return, you will not be in foal.”

            “Thor, I will stab you.”

            “Not until you’ve made a better impression on these people, brother. Be well.”

            With that, Steve and Thor took their leave, leaving Bucky alone with an extremely handsome alien-god-person braiding his horse’s mane.

            _Well,_ Bucky thought, _I’m sure stranger things have happened._


	2. Beginnings Are Hard, Except When They're Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Loki eat some fruit and name a horse. Thor tries to mend some bridges. None of these things are as easy as they sound.

            Bucky and Loki stood in awkward silence for a moment as Loki finished plaiting the horse’s mane. The Prince of Asgard laid the horse’s mane gently down against its neck and turned to regard his new room mate.

            “Well then, Bucky? Will you show me our quarters?” Loki said at length. Bucky shrugged his one arm and led Loki into the farm house. Loki stroked the horse’s nose once more before following in silence.

            “Why have you not named your horse? It is rude, you know, to leave so noble a creature without a name.” Loki remarked as he stepped into the small house. It wasn’t much—Bucky didn’t need a lot. There was a simple kitchen and dining area immediately upon entering, and beyond there was a long sofa surrounded by books.

            “He’s only been around a few months—doesn’t do much. Just sort of wondered over one day, no one claimed him. Said he was a nag or something. I’ve just been calling him ‘horse.’” Bucky paused by the small table that he ate his meals at and pointed to his left. “I sleep down there. Bathroom is down that way too.” He jerked his head to the right. “There’s a spare room down that way. Got a mattress and bedding. That’ll be you.”

            Expecting Loki to go inspect his new quarters, Bucky grabbed an orange from his fruit bowl and began the tedious process of peeling it one-handed. He startled when the fruit floated from his hand and into Loki’s waiting one.

            “We’re going to have to name the horse. He’s ashamed to be without, and it isn’t fair for one of his age and spirit. I was under the impression that you humans named everything, though there does not seem to be much rhyme or reason to it.” The prince finished peeling the fruit and popped a piece into his own mouth, chewing slowly to savor the taste. “Take your own name for example. What exactly is a “Bucky?” Not your given name, surely. And I must wonder what great feat of farming you or your forefathers did to earn the title of ‘Barnes.’” Loki ate another orange slice and dropped the rest of the fruit onto Bucky’s plate. His smile was broad, expectant. Like he expected Bucky to thank him for peeling (and stealing some) of his orange.

            “You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you? No wonder Steve was makin’ that face.” Bucky said, his hand hovering protectively over what remained of his orange. Loki’s smile turned shark-like, and if not for Steve’s assurance that Loki could not hurt him, Bucky would assume he was dangerous.

            “No thank you, Sargant Barnes, for assisting you with your meal?” His voice was silky smooth, the look on his face royally sardonic. It set Bucky on edge. He could never stand uppity assholes like this. Bucky would be willing to bet that this Prince of Asgard had never been boots on the ground in battle, willing to risk everything for comrade and country… but the story Steve’s friend, Thor, had related, brief, strange, and unclear though it was, seemed to indicate otherwise. He took a steadying breath through his nose.

            “Not when you steal some. Anyway, I had it covered.”

            “You seemed to be struggling. You have one arm.” Loki leaned forward on the chair across from Bucky, and Bucky couldn’t tell if he was trying to be an ass or if he was just… that way. He supposed the latter was most likely—God of Chaos, and all.

            “And you’re from space.” Bucky replied evenly. “Wanna make something of it?”

            Loki snorted and leaned back again, pushing away from the chair and wandering over to the fruit bowl to take an orange for himself. Whatever he’d been looking for in that exchange, he’d apparently found it. The prince peeled the orange and popped two slices into his mouth at once. He leaned against the counter—did this man always drape himself dramatically across every damn surface he happened past? Bucky was trying to analyze the situation here, not drool over a possibly-villainous demi-god.

            “We still need to name that horse.” Loki said at last, polishing off the orange. “Have you honestly just been calling him horse? How insulting. You would not like to simply be called ‘human,’ would you?”

            Bucky grimaced, vague memories surfacing of his time with Hydra, often being called “Soldier” or “the Asset” rather than by his own name… and even on the occasion that his handlers gave him the gift an actual name, it was never “Bucky.” Sometimes, on a very rare occasion, he got to be “Barnes,” but mostly he was just “The Soldier.” It was not a particularly pleasant way to live.

            “Okay, good point. What should we call him, then?”

            Loki straightened gracefully and started for the door.

            “Might as well include him in the conversation. Come along, Sargant Barnes.” Unthinking, Bucky pushed his chair back and followed, chewing on the last bits of his orange.

            “What do you mean include—can you speak to horses?” Bucky wondered, blinking in the brightness of the setting Wakandan sun. Loki flashed a grin at him over his shoulder, not breaking stride as he made his way towards where the old Dun was grazing.

            “Indeed. I took it as an elective on Asgard when I was young.”

            Bucky stopped short.

            “Wait, seriously?”

            “No, not seriously. I can speak to most any creature on this planet, it is a simple connection of the minds. I find horses and snakes to be simplest, but I can get by with nearly anyone. It is the gift of Allspeak, given to the royal family by Odin All-father.” Loki chuckled. “Although Thor did take Groot as an elective. Why the man decided he wanted to speak to trees of all things… I never will understand my brother.” Loki drew to a stop before the horse. “Now, let me know your story, my friend.” And he laid one hand across the horse’s golden cheek, closing his eyes. The horse’s large, mismatched eyes drifted shut as well.

            Bucky shifted uncomfortably after a moment of silence passed, while Loki… communed with the horse. It was weird, but sort of beautiful in a way. Loki bent so his forehead rested against that of the horse, who snuffled. They seemed… peaceful. At one with each other. Bucky wondered if that was a peace that could be shared. Finally, Loki lifted his head and smiled at the horse, running his fingers over the braided mane that was already coming loose.

            “So, uh… What’d he say?” Bucky asked.

            “He was a workhorse once, what you would call a Warmblood. He was let loose because he has grown old, and pain in his joints prevents him from carrying on with his work as he once would. He aches, and thought to go to the mountains…” Loki frowned, stroking the horse’s neck. “He felt he’d outlived his use, and meant to simply fade away, as his kind do when they’ve served their purpose. But then…” Loki tilted his dark head towards Bucky, meeting his eyes. “He saw you, Sargant Barnes, and thought that you were also aching. He meant to keep you company. And you’ve not seen fit to name him, he does not understand why.”

            Bucky suddenly flushed with shame, which he knew was ridiculous, because how the hell was he supposed to know the horse had feelings? Or was in pain? He wasn’t a Horse Whisperer… but still.

            “Um… I’m… I’m real sorry, Horse.” Bucky said lamely. “I mean, not Horse, we’re gonna give you an actual name now, I didn’t mean for you to be insulted or anything and…” He paused, glancing at Loki, who was watching him with interest. He frowned. “He can’t understand me, what am I even doing?”

            “He understands enough.” Loki said simply. “And while I am touching him, he will understand it all. Do go on.”

            “Oh.” Bucky cleared his throat, and addressed the horse again. “Well, like I said. I’m sorry. And, um… thanks for coming to keep me company. It’s been nice, you know. It’s been good. And now we’re gonna name you.” He turned back to Loki. “What are we going to name him?”

            Loki looked thoughtful as he petted the horse, leaning against him. Bucky approached slowly, also raising his single hand to the horse’s face. A dark muzzle turned into his hand, snuffling noisily into it.

            “He is a fighter, is he not? His life was meant to end, with the damage time has dealt him, and yet here he is between us, full of life.” Green eyes met blue as they both rested their hands on the horse. “Do you not agree?”

            “Yeah…” Bucky said, thinking back to a train, and a fall… and to wake me up. “Sounds kind of familiar, honestly.”

            “Einar.” Loki said, after a moment of silence. “It means warrior. Perhaps this handsome lad was never a warhorse, but he’s a soul worthy of such a name, I think.”

            “Einar… sounds good to me. Better than ‘Horse,’ anyway.” Bucky looked the horse in his mismatched eyes. “What do you think about it, huh? Einar okay for you?”

            The horse—Einar—blinked and let out a small whinny. Bucky grinned and looked back to Loki, who was also smiling.

            “A name he is proud to bear. Now, my friend, I was never much of a healer but…” Bucky startled as Loki’s hands glowed with green and gold energy. “Do not worry, Sargant Barnes. I can harm no human, as I have vowed. I only mean to ease Einar’s discomfort.” And Loki passed his glowing hands over Einar’s great shoulders, and along his back. Einar stomped his hooves in what Bucky assumed was approval, and moved off to continue grazing for his dinner- moving more smoothly now than Bucky’d seen in the months previous.

            “It is a temporary fix- an ice pack, one might say.” Loki answered Bucky’s questioning look. “At best, I’m a passable field medic. My magic is more practiced in other areas. But he will sleep easily tonight.”

            “Well, a good night’s sleep is nothing to sneeze at.” Bucky said, having spent far too many nights without. He decided he’d ask about the magic later—when it came to absorbing new things, he found it best to do it in small doses. “And it’s Bucky.”

            “Beg pardon?”

            “You seem to put a lot of stock in names. I told you before—mine is Bucky. And I didn’t do anything to earn it. It’s just a name.” Bucky added, remembering Loki’s prodding in the kitchen. “My name. It’s what Steve calls me.”

            “And that is why it is precious to you.” Loki surmised. “More precious than the name of Barnes.”

            “I guess.” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Barnes has nothing to do with farming, by the way. At least as far as I know. It’s just the family name, I don’t know where it came from. You don’t really ‘earn’ names around here. Except maybe nick names.” The two turned back towards the little house, walking together at an easy pace. “Bucky is a nick name, really- because my full name is James Buchanan Barnes, and Bucky is short for Buchanan.” Bucky shrugged again. “I think it started because James is a really common name- me and Steve, we knew a few other guys with the name. Like, some one would say ‘James’ when we were a bunch of kids playing stickball, and half the team would turn around. ‘Buchanan,’ not such a common name, but I wasn’t about to go around being called that, and then Steve suggested ‘Bucky.’ He said ‘When you hear me say ‘Bucky,’ you’ll always know I’m talking to you.’ And I loved it, y’know? It took a while for everyone else to pick it up, people wanted to just call me James, Jim, or Barnes, but I liked Bucky, and Steve liked Bucky. I think it made him feel important, having picked my nick name. He was such a tiny, sickly kid before the serum. Any winter could have been his last. But he was my best friend. Still is. So I guess that’s why I’m ‘Bucky.’”

            They’d reached the house and stepped inside to the kitchen. Loki was quietly musing over Bucky’s explanation. He snatched another orange from the fruit bowl and made quick work of it as he thought. He’d come to understand that Midgardians did not have the same naming system as Asgardians the last time he’d visited Earth, of course, but at the time, in Thanos’ thrall and leading the Chitauri forces, he’d not given it much thought. In his previous visits to Midgard, centuries ago, when he’d simply come to spread a little mischief and see if the Norse people still spoke his name with reverence, the system had made more sense. A person had a given name, and then their second name was indicative of their relationship to society or others in the clan. The son of a tanner, for example, would be called “Tannerson” and that was easy enough to work out. Then there were the titles, awarded for great deeds. Not very common on Earth, but on Asgard and Vanaheim, Loki’d known a few. In fact, there were his own titles- Silver Tongue, for example, which was not always meant kindly, but still spoke true of his abilities as a wordsmith. He wondered if that would be considered a nick name, here on Earth now. He turned to ask, but Bucky was already down the short hall, turning into what Loki assumed was his bedroom.

            Strangely disappointed, Loki turned towards his own end of the little house. There was, as Barnes had promised, a small room with a mattress on the floor. There were a couple of pillows on it and a quilt tucked neatly around it. To the side was a small desk which held a lamp, a sketch book, and a cup of pencils. Flipping through the sketch book, Loki found the artist was decently skilled, and had drawn some of the scenery outside, a few pictures of Bucky (as he was now, but also younger and whole—in military garb, with both arms present), some other locations on Earth, and a woman that Loki could not recognize. The prince could make a guess or two as to whose bedroom he was occupying— clearly the good Captain visited his friend with a certain amount of regularity. Loki kicked off his boots and let his leathers melt away into a simple green tunic and leggings, settling down on the mattress and satisfied that it was not as thin as it looked. Struck suddenly by how exhausted he was, he laid down and allowed sleep to take him, his last thoughts lingering on his room mate’s smile when he told the story of becoming “Bucky.”

            “I think it’s time this divide between you and Rogers was ended.” Thor said to Tony with barely any preamble as he arrived at the compound. He found Tony and Bruce huddled together, talking about space and science, with Rhodey drinking a beer nearby, throwing a balled up napkin in the pair’s direction and calling them ‘nerds.’ Tony looked up, the smile he’d had on his face while talking with Bruce slipping away.

            “Yeah, see, Rogers is kind of a criminal now. Not that easy, Point-Break.” Tony said, the civil look on his face plastered on. “Broke a whole bunch of people out of jail, you see. And, you know, tried to kill me, but let’s not focus on the trivial stuff, am I right?”

            Rhodey sighed, burying his face in his hands, from which Thor surmised that this would be a difficult conversation. Bruce looked up at Thor with a pleading look on his face, the sort that Thor often saw when the good doctor was trying to pacify someone. With reluctance, Thor had to ignore his friend’s concern about his stress levels. He could not build a new home for Asgard with his Midgard family in such disarray.

            “I understand what has happened between you, Tony. And I know it was painful. Why, Loki has tried to kill me many—though perhaps this isn’t the moment for such stories.” Thor amended hastily when Bruce’s face did that thing when his eyes seemed to bulge out. “A family fractured is no family. I need my friends—all of my friends, right now. The needs of my people are dire, and in truth it pains me to see you all at such odds with each other. Steve bears you no ill will, Tony, you must know this.”

            “Steve—you spoke to him.” Tony sat up straight, his eyes narrowing in a glare. Rhodey groaned, his soft exclamation of Tony’s name going unnoticed. “Of course you did. I told you what happened, and you decide to go see if he can help you hide your murderous little brother, because of course me saying that Loki _cannot be on Earth_ means literally nothing to you.”

                “Peace, Stark, it does not mean nothing. Loki is not murderous. In fact, as of a few hours ago, he was rendered incapable of harming any human, and he did this voluntarily. He will stay out of sight while negotiations occur, and you may rest assured that he will not do any sort of harm to any of your people. King T’Challa was very kind, and seems very wise—”

                Tony stood, throwing up his hands, and marched off to stare out the window for a moment. Thor knew from the stiffness in his shoulders that he was steadying his breathing. He glanced at Rhodey, and Rhodey held a hand up, watching Tony’s back. Finally, Tony turned around again, a scowl plastered to his face, but his breath steady.

                “So, Wakanda, is that it? Funny how it’s become a haven for the previously-murderous friends of back-stabbing blonds.”

                “I have done no such backstabbing!” Thor defended immediately, and Bruce groaned. Thor turned towards him. “I haven’t!” Bruce waved a hand at him- intending to placate, perhaps. Bruce did not like conflict.

                “No, you just cam here for my help, and then went and did exactly what I asked you _not_ to do, which was bring your brother to Earth. Not only that, but you went to Rogers for it—‘Gee, Tony said no, I wonder what Steve will say’—and you dropped your brother in the same damn country as the guy who _killed my parents._ ” Tony smiled sardonically, and Thor was reminded of his brother in that instance. “No backstabbing at all.”

                “I intended no slight against you, Stark.” Thor said wearily, rubbing the heel of his palm over his one remaining eye. “But you are not my only friend, nor the only one to whom I must hold allegiance. I am not here to argue for you to forgive Steve- If I were, I’d have brought him with me to plead his own case, but he insisted it would be a bad idea. I do know that he gave you a means of communicating with him. And I also know that those whom he liberated from the prison called “The Raft” are also our friends—kept in conditions no suited to those who have sacrificed so much for this world. I believe you know that, Stark—I do not think you would have consented to leave Wanda trapped in that cell for long, nor Barton, nor Sam. You are not a cruel man, it is not in your nature.”

                Tony sighed heavily through his nose, leaning now on the chair he’d been seated on, eyes closed.

                “Okay, maybe. I wasn’t cool with that but… I was trying to save the team. I was.” Tony looked up at Thor. “I was trying to help us all stay together, and free—all Steve had to do was sign the damn Accords, and let Barnes be brought to justice. And even then…” Tony let out a bitter laugh. “Even then, I was still ready to help, and then I find out that the whole time he knew—he _fucking_ knew—that Barnes had killed my parents. And he didn’t tell me. He was never gonna tell me, he was just gonna hope I never found out so that I’d help him defend his _precious Bucky_ and—”

                “What would have changed?” Thor interrupted gently.

                “Excuse me?”

                “Sargant Barnes was not of his own mind when he murdered your parents. I think you know that. Whether you knew or not, Stark, your parents would still be gone. Barnes’ hands would still have done the killing, but his true self would still have been innocent. Perhaps Steve thought it was easier for everybody to continue acting as though it was all an accident. Perhaps he was selfish, perhaps he was wrong. But now you do know the truth, and you are all the more miserable for it. And now, it seems to me, these Accords you speak of have tied a hand behind your back, and force you to remain isolated from our friends. Friends I know that you love, and would help if you could see past your own hurt.”

                Tony sputtered.

                “They… Thor, look at Rhodey! Look what happened—” and here, Rhodey interjected at last, hoisting himself to his feet with the aid of the mechanical crutches attached to his legs and hips.

                “This was Vision.” Rhodey said plainly. “He was on our side. He missed his shot. Sam, who was not on our side, tried to save me. So did you, so did Vision. It was an accident, and I know that. You know that. I’m not gonna be your excuse for villainizing them, Tony. I love you, but…” Rhodey shrugged. “They aren’t criminals for any reason other than that’s what Ross decided to call them. I still believe in the Accords, and I still want to punch Cap in the face at least once for doing what he did to you, but… we’re strongest together. I miss them. _You_ miss them. Hell, Vision has made a decision to _not_ miss them, and that’s why he goes missing so often. You think he doesn’t know where Wanda is? You think he’s not with her right now?” Tony scowled and Rhodey held his hands up, but kept talking. “I’m just saying, Tony. Maybe Thor’s right. Maybe its time to mend a bridge or two. Or at least hear what Steve has to say. I know you didn’t throw that phone out.”

                Tony gaped at his friend, then at Thor. He turned to Bruce, who was sitting still and looking uncomfortable—the usual, when there was a conflict he did not want to be a part of.

                “Don’t look at me, Tony, this has to be your choice. We have a humanitarian crisis on our hands, in space, and if mending fences here will help them up there, then I’m for it. I actually probably owe Nat a conversation or two, you know? But it’s up to you. Forgiveness isn’t something you can force, and its not what Thor’s asking, I don’t think. But, um… think about opening a line, maybe?” Bruce shrugged with one arm, spreading his fingers as if to say ‘I am harmless and small but I have an opinion.’ Tony groaned, and stared out the window.

                “Alright. Okay. Point-Break, get out.” Thor sputtered and Tony turned to look at him. “You can come back tomorrow, okay? I just need… I need some space. By myself. And this is my space.” Tony looked pointedly at Bruce and Rhodey too. Rhodey clapped Tony’s shoulder, then led the other two out. He’d lead them to their respective rooms, Tony knew. Rhodey was good like that, always knew that when Tony wanted someone to leave, he never meant all the way.

Tony walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. In his pocket, a dinosaur like flip phone weighed like a stone. In Wakanda, the man on the other end of the line had convinced a king to harbor two of the most dangerous men to ever walk on the planet—and all because he believed in second chances. Tony pulled out the phone and downed the whiskey he’d poured. He pressed the only number programmed into the speed dial, and listened to the ringing.

“Good to hear from you, Tony.” Answered a tired, but familiar voice on the other end of the phone.

“We’ll see about that;” Tony said. “But the important thing—who even uses flip phones any more, Steve? I mean where did you _get_ it?”

On the other end of the line, halfway around the world… Steve Rogers laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Tony is elbowing his way into the story more than I'd intended him to. But never fear, the heart if this story is going to be Bucky and Loki.  
> Also, as far as this story is concerned, Loki has had children, I'm just not certain which ones (besides Narfi, which will come in later) are going to be canon yet. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments!


	3. Making Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, Bucky, and Einar spend a day together. Loki learns about Breakfast Soup.

                Loki rose when the sun hit his face through the windows of his new quarters. He stretched lazily, and his magic stretched too, burrowing into the earth and snaking around the house and its lands. Barnes—no, Bucky, he’d said to call him Bucky, was already awake, washing something in the kitchen sink, and Einar was pacing near the house, as though guarding it. Or perhaps waiting for his morning meal. Loki climbed to his feet, and did not bother to don his boots. He tugged his mane of curls back from his face, conjuring string to tie it back. He padded barefoot down to the kitchen, where Bucky was dressed in a simple white shirt, with one sleeve rolled up to display the empty shoulder socket, and soft looking pants. He was placing a dish in the rack next to the sink when he twitched an eyebrow in Loki’s direction.

                “So is it an Asgardian thing, a royal thing, or just a you thing?” He asked, beginning to rinse a mug. There was a pleasant smell coming from a pot on the stove.

                “What?” Loki asked.

                “Sleeping in.” Bucky scrubbed the inside of the mug and rinsed it a few times. “It’s after nine.”

                “I was not aware that there was a set time to rise.” Loki stated, dropping into a chair and propping his feet up on the other one. Bucky turned and frowned at his feet.

                “There isn’t, really, I’m just an early riser. Steve too. Army thing. Can you not do that?” He gestured towards Loki’s feet. Loki flexed and wiggled his toes, spreading himself further across the two chairs with a lazy grin.

                “It’s within my capabilities, certainly.” Loki said. He flicked his head towards the pot on the stove. “What’s in the pot? The smell is pleasant.”

                “I’ll tell you if you get your feet off my seat.” Bucky’s nose crinkled as he continued to look at Loki’s feet in consternation. Loki half smiled, remembering a similar look on Sigyn’s face countless times—but no. Best not think of that.

                “I could do that. Or I could do this.” Loki flicked his hand and the pot hopped off the stove and sloshed to a stop on the table in front of him. Loki looked inside to see a hot black liquid within, steam rising from it. He flicked out one of his many knives and worked on transforming it into a spoon.

                “Is it soup? An unusual breakfast, surely.”

                Bucky’s eyes briefly left the feet still stubbornly propped on his chair to watch the transfiguration. His eyebrows went up as the knife wavered and changed shape, becoming a large spoon with an ornate handle. He opened his mouth for a second, then closed it, walking over to the table to inspect the spoon, then met Loki’s expectant gaze.

                “It’s…” Bucky paused, then his lips twitched. “Yeah, it’s soup. Breakfast soup, kind of unique to this part of the world. Give it a try.”

                Loki shrugged and dipped his spoon into the liquid. Whatever it was, it seemed to be purely broth, but the scent was strong. He wondered what sort of animal the broth was distilled from. He raised it to his lips, taking a moment to savor the scent, and took a sip.

                He choked and spit it out to the side of the table, coughing. It was so bitter! And had no substance! But mostly it was bitter and disgusting and what the hell were people thinking when they decided that this was a “breakfast soup,” and… and Bucky was laughing. Loki looked up, wiping his mouth and cursing, and Bucky was laughing, his head bent forward as he did. Loki watched in amazement as, still chuckling, the mortal hefted the pot in his one arm and returned it to the stove, pulling down a mug from the shelf above the sink. He ladled some of the Breakfast Soup into the mug, then reached into the icebox and pulled out a container of milk. He splashed some into the mug, then, eying Loki with amusement, scooped three white cubes from a bowl next to the stove into the mug and used a small spoon to stir.

                “You alright?” He asked, voice light and teasing. It took Loki a moment to regain his voice.

                “I am… I am fine. That was—you knew that would happen. This soup, it was meant to be disgusting in its undiluted form. You tricked me.” Bucky chuckled again.

                “Well, actually, there are some people who like it like that. Black, strong enough to peel paint off the walls, and bitter as anything. But I figured you for a sweet tooth… so yeah, I tricked you. Get your feet off my seat.” Bucky lifted his own foot and nudged Loki’s legs, and Loki retracted his feet. “It’s not soup, it’s coffee. It’s a drink made from beans that has a lot of caffeine. A lot of people like it in the morning, to help wake up. Here.” He placed the steaming mug in front of Loki. “You might like it now.”

                Loki eyed Bucky suspiciously, then looked down at the mug. The scent of the soup—no, the drink—had become sweeter, more pleasant than before. No longer black, it was now more beige. Loki returned his gaze to Bucky, who was still grinning, and Bucky nodded his encouragement. With a sigh, Loki raised the mug to his lips, bracing himself for the worst. This time, however…

                “Oh, this is very good.” Loki took a longer drink, letting the warm liquid travel down to his stomach. “Much better, in fact.” He looked up as Bucky slid into his seat, still smiling. “You know, not many people have the gall to play a trick on the God of Mischief.”

                Bucky gave his one-armed shrug.

                “Gall isn’t the worst thing I’ve been accused of having.” The two shared a smile, and Loki took another drink from his mug.

                “If not soup, what do you have around here for breakfast?” Loki asked. Bucky gestured to the rack, which contained the dish Loki had seen him washing, as well as a pan.

                “I just made some eggs. But if you’re not up for cooking, Shuri got me some cereals from back home in America. They don’t need anything except for milk, you can eat ‘em cold.” Bucky noticed Loki’s suspicious look and grinned. “No jokes this time, honest.”

                “Claiming honesty does little to convince people that you are honest. Unless the person you’re trying to convince is my brother, but even then… he’s grown.” Loki commented. “Very well then. I will have this ‘cereal.’”

                “Okay then. Bowls are in the cabinet above the sink, cereal in the long one next to it. It’s labeled. Milk is in the ice box.” Bucky leaned back in his seat.

                “I beg your pardon?”

                “I’m not doing everything for you, Loki. Steve said you and Thor are—what, 1000 years old? I’m sure you can manage.”

                “Closer to 2000, actually. And still young.” Loki said, but he stood and took the milk and bowl from where Bucky had indicated, placing them on the table. Then he opened the long cabinet, which had all manner of foodstuffs within. He made a guess and grabbed a box labeled “Cheerios” from within, glancing back at Bucky, who nodded. He brought it back to the table.

                “Cereal goes in first. Then the milk. Try not to let it get soggy, it’s just better that way. Enjoy.” Bucky stood. “Clean up after yourself, alright? I’m gonna go check on the hor—on Einar.” With that, Loki was left alone. He followed Bucky’s instructions, and found that the cereal and milk paired well with the coffee, and had a pleasant crunch. He ate his fill, then eyed the kitchen. He placed his bowl in the sink, and his mug. The milk he placed back in the ice box. When he returned the cereal, he inspected the other boxes, and considered switching around all their contents as revenge for the trick Bucky’d played on him earlier… but no. He could do better. Bucky Barnes would not know what hit him.

                Instead of mischief-making, Loki wandered down to Bucky’s side of the house. There he found three doors. One opened to a closet, where there were various sorts of Midgardian clothes as well as cleaning supplies. The other was the lavatory, which he made use of. This meant the last one was Bucky’s chamber. He glanced in, observing a mattress on the floor like his own, with a red and blue quilt on it, made to military standard. There was a dresser, upon which rested a lamp. There was a poster of some sort advertising a fair at some place in New York from years ago, and there was a torn piece of paper pinned to the wall, where it would be easily seen and read by the occupant of the mattress upon waking.

                The paper read: “James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Sargant, US Army. Howling Commando. Brooklyn, NY. Parents: George and Winnifred. Best Friend is Steve Rogers. Captain America. Steve is Okay. You are Okay. Phone on the left.” What followed were two phone numbers—one to Rogers, Bucky assumed, and one with a crown next to it that may have been to King T’Challa or another member of the royal family. Loki frowned. He wondered if Bucky still sometimes forgot who he was, to need to see such a thing the moment he woke. He withdrew from the room and walked outside to see Bucky sitting on a bale of hay, watching Einar prance. Apparently, Loki’s magical boost had yet to run its course for the horse, who executed a beautiful turn and whinnied when he saw Loki.

                _Friend-Prince Loki, I am almost healed, do you see? Friend-Hurt Bucky is impressed. Do you see?_ The whinny said. Loki gave a small smile, approaching and reaching his hand out in greeting. Einar eagerly pressed his nuzzle into Loki’s hand.

                “Ah, my friend, I am glad to see you feeling well. I am afraid your aches will return soon, but I will tend to them as I can.” He murmured, stroking Einar’s cheek. Bucky watched with curiosity. “I cannot heal you completely.” Einar snorted, and leaned his head harder into Loki’s hand.

                _This one chance to prance and play again is worth whatever aches will return, Friend-Prince Loki. Will you watch me? It has been a long time since I have run._

                “I will watch you.” Loki promised, his heart aching for a moment at the familiarity of it all, his mind falling into memories of _“Papa, watch me, watch me!”_ But Loki did not allow himself to linger there. He never did. He took a seat next to Bucky on the bale of hay.

                “What did he say to you?” Bucky asked, wonder in his voice.

                “His pain has not yet returned, and he is happy. He wants us to watch him run.” Loki glanced sideways at Bucky. “He believes you to be quite impressed by his prancing.”

                “Well, I…” A light blush dusted Bucky’s cheeks and he shrugged. “I just haven’t seen him move like this before, is all. He’s usually… slow. Limps a bit, even, after a while.”

                “I told him that this relief is not a permanent fix to his age and illness.” Loki said, his eyes now tracking Einar as he cantered from one end of the field to the other and back. “But he is happy for the chance to play again. He wants us to watch, so watch him.”

                And so the two sat peacefully shoulder to shoulder, watching Einar trot, canter, and prance. Einar let out a gleeful whinny as he came in close again, preparing himself to try a gallop. Loki smiled, and nudged Bucky.

                “Watch this.” Then he approached Einar, who paused in his play to allow Loki to approach him. Loki grinned broadly and placed a hand on Einar’s shoulder. “Let us run together, my friend. Get going.”

                At Loki’s encouragement, Einar entered a trot, with Loki running at his side. Then a moment later, there was a flash of green and gold light, and Bucky shouted, standing up. Loki had disappeared, and trotting alongside Einar now was a slim dapple grey horse, who nickered at Einar and picked up to a canter. Einar matched him, and Bucky watched in awe as the two reached the end of the field, turned, and sprang into a gallop, each all but flying across the field, neighing loudly.

                _Friend-Prince Loki! Friend-Prince Loki!_ Einar cried happily, galloping beside the new horse. Loki, in his horse form, let out a whinny of approval and picked up speed, careful not to go too fast for the older horse behind him.

                _Yes, Einar._ Loki sent back. _Let us chase the wind._ And so they did, galloping across the field twice before Einar, panting, had to stop. Loki trotted over to his friend and laid his head across Einar’s back, feeling the other horse tremble with exhaustion and excitement. Bucky approached, an exhilarated look on his face, carrying a bucket of water, which Einar dipped his head into gratefully.

                “Woah there, buddy, let me put it down first.” Bucky grunted, letting the large bucket rest. He eyed Loki, who’d stood back to let Einar drink his fill.

                “So, um… do you need—” Bucky was cut off as with another flash of magic light, Loki changed back into himself—though his clothes had changed. He wore a dark blue tunic now, with a belt around it, and what looked like leather trousers.

                “No, I do not need anything. Much as I love to run, I never much fancied drinking from a bucket.” He gave Bucky one of his sly smiles.

                “That was amazing, though! I’ve never seen… I mean, I’ve met Steve’s friends… under not great circumstances, and saw their powers, and then T’Challa is the Black Panther and Shuri has all her tech, but I’ve never seen anything like that.” Bucky said, trying not to be embarrassed at how excited he sounded- like the kid he’d been at the World’s Fair, before he’d gone off to war.

                “No, I don’t suspect you would have.” Loki said. “Even among sorcerers, shapeshifting is not a common talent. You either are a shape shifter, or you are not, and if you are it takes a great deal of time to master the art.”

                “So when you’re a horse do you think like a horse? Or are you still you? How does it work?” Bucky asked, stroking Einar’s neck as the horse finished his drink.

                “Ah, another one. You mortals. Always want to know how magic works. The child, Shuri, was full of questions yesterday.” Loki said, beginning to rub Einar’s shoulder. “To answer your question—I do not think like a horse. There are certain influences from the body; for example, I enjoy galloping in horse form more than I do running in this one. And I suppose there is a stronger…” Loki paused, searching for the right words. “There is a stronger connection to this planet, I think. To nature. I have also been a snake, a raven, and a wolf, and each experience is different, but my core, my…. My _me_ , I suppose, remains the same. Does that answer satisfy you?”

                Bucky’s mouth had dropped open slightly in awe, and Loki found his attention drawn to it as he wetted his lips.

                “Satisfy? Yeah, I guess. I’m just… I’ve seen you move things. And your clothes changed.”

                “Well,” Loki said, tearing his gaze away from Bucky’s mouth, “We can’t all spend the day in our sleep clothes, can we?” He nodded pointedly at Bucky, who was indeed still in his sleep clothes. Bucky shrugged.

                “I don’t usually have company to get dressed up for.”

                As if on cue, the hum of motor reached the pair. Einar’s head shot up and he nickered.

                _Funny Princess. She comes to help Hurt Friend Bucky. The sound is one of her machines that she uses to gallopflyrun without a proper set of legs._ Einar nudged Loki’s shoulder with his own, making the god stagger backwards a step. _Keep rubbing. I like you better when you are a horse, Friend-Prince Loki._

                “I shall try not to be insulted by that.” Loki said, but conjured a towel and resumed rubbing Einar down, moving from his great shoulder down his left flank as Bucky walked to greet Shuri, who was jumping down from a fancy, faintly glowing motor bike.

                “Hello, Bucky Barnes!” Shuri greeted with enthusiasm. “I see you and your new room mate have survived the night. How is my favorite white boy?”

                “Your favorite white boy just watched his new room mate turn into a horse and back, so, you know,” Bucky shrugged, chuckling “Not bad, considering.”

                “He did what? He can change into animals?” Shuri craned her head around Bucky to see Loki still rubbing Einar down, having moved to the next shoulder. “Hey, Magic Man! You can change into animals?”

                Loki looked up from tending to Einar.

                “Greetings, Princess Shuri.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “We are surely honored that you have come to grace our humble abode with your royal presence.”

                Shuri flushed for a moment, remembering that unlike Bucky, Loki actually was royalty and would notice her shirking royal protocol. Then she shook it off and strode towards him, pulling Bucky along behind her.

                “Who cares about my royal presence, you turned into a horse! I would like to see that, please!” Shuri insisted, lifting a hand to pat Einar between the eyes. “Did you learn this one’s name while you were in that form? He’s been calling him ‘Horse,’ of all the things…”

                “Einar.” Bucky said, almost defensively. “His name is Einar, and I’m sorry I didn’t give him a proper name.”

“It was rude.” Loki said. “But you are forgiven. Einar calls you Friend-Bucky.” Shuri’s eyes grew wide as plates.

                “You can _speak_ to animals? It is like in that movie that Baba used to watch, with the man who spoke to animals. What other magic can you do? Can you turn into anything? My instruments picked up on an odd generation of energy when you made your pledge, I’d like more readings. I’ve never seen anything like it before! It is as though you are surrounded with potential energy! It is almost like what my brother’s suit looks like when it is all charged up, and yet still different.”

                Loki raised his brows at Shuri’s rapid fire questioning.

                “And Einar calls _you_ ‘Funny Princess.’ I can see why. I will answer your questions, but first I would like to finish tending to him.” Loki said, Einar leaning into him a bit. He steadied himself to accept the weight. “He’s had his fun, but he will begin to feel his age again all-to-soon, even if he does receive proper care. I’d prefer to make it easy on him.”

                “Can’t you just keep…” Bucky frowned and waved his hand. “Giving him magic boosts.”

                “I cannot.” Loki said. “Or rather, I could, but it would not be good for Einar. He is not an inherently magical being. Repeated exposure would do more harm than good. Like any medicine. I can do much with my magic, but I cannot turn back the sands of time. He is old; he will feel old. He is sick; he will feel sick. Every now and again I can give him… a boost, as you say. But to do so too often would only hasten his end and make it harder for him to accept treatment when he really needs it. If he had his own magic, it would be different.” Loki resumed rubbing the horse down. “Of course, that doesn’t make him any less worthy of care. If you’ll excuse us.”

                Bucky recognized a dismissal when he heard it, and gently tugged Shuri away, into the shade of the house.

                “He’ll show you his magic.” He promised her. “He seems to kind of like showing it off.” Shuri nodded and smiled, punching him in the arm.

                “I knew he would be good for you. You seem well rested today.”

                “Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “I slept alright. And, uh, he’s really not bad. Bit obnoxious, bit of an ass, but… I don’t think he’s a bad guy.”

                “I am glad to hear it.”

                “I know Steve was a little worried about him being here.”

                “So is Mama, and my brother. But when he pledged to not do any harm here… my instruments picked up _something_. If it is as Thor says, then he is incapable of being dangerous. Which means I can ask for all the magic I want!” Shuri grinned, then grew serious. “Now, tell me seriously, how are you? It’s been a couple of weeks since I was able to come by long enough to do a full evaluation.”

                Bucky heaved a sigh. He was grateful to Shuri, and appreciated the importance, but he _hated_ evaluations. They would delve as deep into his psyche as they could go, Shuri’s instruments attached to his head, and see how much of the Soldier was left. It was only in the last few months that Shuri was able to come and perform them alone, because she was confident that if the Soldier appeared, he would be easily contained with what she had on hand. It was amazing progress- his verbal triggers were gone, though the word term ‘Freight Car’ still made him tense up for a fight, he was still him when he did it.

                “I know, it is no fun. But it must be done, especially with this God of Mischief and Chaos bedding down in the room next door.” Shuri said bracingly. “Come now, and let’s get it over with.”

                Bucky looked out to the field, to where Loki was slowly walking alongside Einar, speaking in low tones to the horse (who could understand him and who was probably replying, what a way to turn life on its head) and then nodded. He let Shuri lead the way into the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaaat 2 chapters in 2 days how did that happen? Probably because I might not update next week, I'll be visiting family.   
> Many Thanks to Slicey for making sure that Einar got looked after properly in this chapter.  
> Any mistakes within are my own, by the way, it's not beta read.


	4. The Things They Carry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gains some insight into what Shuri has been helping Bucky with, and can't help but poke at it with a sharp stick. Meanwhile, Asgard orbits in limbo...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, chapter 4! I'm almost consistent. Thanks as always to Slicey for keeping me on track and for keeping Einar well cared for. Thanks for all your comments!

               When Loki entered the little farmhouse after caring for Einar, he found Bucky and Shuri at opposite ends of the kitchen table. There were all sorts of devices attached to Bucky’s head, and projections coming from the beads around Shuri’s wrist that she was reading and swiping through at speed. Bucky’s eyes were closed and flickering rapidly beneath his eyelids. Shuri manipulated one of her beads, and Bucky’s eyes snapped open, locking on Loki… but Loki did not believe that Bucky was really seeing him. There was no sparkle of mischief in his eyes, no flicker of recognition.  It was as though Bucky wasn’t there at all.

                “Asset ready to comply.” Bucky—not Bucky said. “Unfamiliar presence. Target or handler?” The cold, dead eyes flicked back to Shuri, who was frowning, continuing to work.

                “Neither,” Shuri said gently. “He is a friend.” She manipulated the projections in front of her, sending a signal to the machines around Bucky’s head. “Come on now, Bucky Barnes. Greet your friend. This is no place for the _Isosha_.”

                “What is this?” Loki asked, stepping closer to Shuri, but stopping when Bucky tensed. She waved him off, swiping away her projections and covering Bucky’s hand with hers, forcing him to meet her eyes.

                “Get it together, White Boy. You’re okay now. You are here in Wakanda, in your home. Your friend Steve will soon visit. You are an asset to no-one but yourself. Come, and tell me how your friend liked your coffee.” Shuri encouraged, squeezing Bucky’s hand. Bucky blinked once, twice, and then something changed in his eyes.

                “Steve?” He asked unsteadily. “I know Steve. He’s from home. From Brooklyn.”

                “Yes.” Shuri said with a smile. “What else do you know?”

                “I know he hates my coffee.” Bucky said, the confused state clearing as his eyes focused on Shuri properly. “And so do you.” He and Shuri shared a smile, and Loki felt safe creeping closer again.

                “You make it like a caveman.” Shuri said, beginning to release Bucky from the machines. “You did well.”

                “Yeah, except for the part where if you’d told me to kill him a second ago, there’d be a knife in his throat.” Bucky scowled, gesturing towards Loki.

                “As amusing as your attempt would have been,” Loki interjected, lounging against the counter as though unfazed by what he’d just seen, “I assure you, your knife would have found its mark elsewhere.”

                Bucky scowled as Shuri packed away the last of her equipment, looking down at his clenched fist.

                “The Soldier’s never missed a mark. Or so they say.”

                “Perhaps,” Loki allowed. “But the Soldier, as you call him,” and suddenly Loki’s voice was coming from behind Bucky, who heard Shuri’s gasp of surprise even as he spun around in his chair, “has never faced a god.”

                Loki flashed a shark like grin at his two companions, his simulacrum still leaning against the counter.

                “I’ve been dead twice now, you know.” He said conversationally, twining ribbons of magical light around his fingers with practiced ease. “It never really seems to take.”

                “How the _fuck_ —” Bucky began, his failure to maintain himself during evaluation flying from his mind.

                “There was no light!” Shuri exclaimed. She quickly activated her beads and examined Loki, and then the simulacrum. “I thought your magic made light, Magic Boy!” She walked up to the simulacrum and poked at it in wonder, and Loki allowed it to dissipate.

                “I’d be a poor sorcerer if I could not create a simple simulacrum without such a display.” Loki stated, flicking his fingers to disperse the light around them. “Illusions are, after all, my specialty. That particular one has caught Thor out many times over the centuries.”

                “I have so many questions.” Shuri said in awe. “I thought my brother was exaggerating about your age.”

                “I’ve been the God of Mischief for well over 1,500 years, child.” Loki said. “And been alive nearly 500 years longer than that. That said, I do not know everything there is to know in the world. I believe it is your turn to indulge my curiosity.”

                “What do you know about me?” Bucky asked, shifting uncomfortably. He’d assumed Loki would’ve been told at least the basics—that he was dangerous and only semi-stable. He’d mentioned when they met that he knew Bucky was a fugitive at the very least. Surely he’d thought to ask why, shrewd as he was?

                “I know that you are a fugitive in several countries on this planet. I know that you are a close friend of Captain Rogers, misplaced in time as he has been, and that whatever your crimes were, they’ve driven a wedge between he and Anthony Stark. I imagine they must have hit home for Stark in some personal way, given that the man had little issue working with an assassin who had, ah, ‘red in her ledger’ when I last came to Earth, and that Captain Rogers’ self-imposed righteousness would not allow him to be so firmly on your side if they were truly heinous.” Loki tilted his head, considering Bucky and Shuri. “Though it was never clearly discussed, it is obvious that you’ve had some sort of psychological issue that played a major part in whatever crimes you committed—That is presumably the issue with which you and young Shuri were dealing with today, and is at least in part why Rogers stands so vehemently at your side.” Loki’s mouth twitched. “It is also, undoubtedly, how my brother convinced Rogers to get him an audience with T’Challa, to argue for a place for me as well. I hope there are no such machines in my future, Princess.” Loki addressed this last bit to Shuri, who met his gaze evenly.

                “I have not received any requests to treat you, Prince.” She met his formality with her own, and she made it sound like an insult to boot. Then she softened. “I am curious about you, and your abilities. But I would not examine you without your consent.”

                Loki tilted his head towards her in concession then returned his green eyes to Bucky, who remained tense. “That is what I know about you, Bucky Barnes. I have also learned that you make a poor Breakfast Soup, but you do it on purpose—you clearly know how to make it more than palatable, you simply choose not to. And that while you may be dangerous, you are not particularly inclined towards conflict, which is why you so often refuse to rise to my bait.” Loki quirked his lips. “Certainly, you at least have more patience for me than most people do. Does that satisfy you?”

                “I…” Bucky did not really know what to say. “That’s about the basics, yeah. I’m, uh, still working on that dangerous bit.”

                “You are making great progress.” Shuri assured, placing her hand back over his.

                “I threw Tony Stark out of his own window.” Loki announced. “I also unleashed a great deal of blood thirsty aliens in his general direction.”

                “Uhhhhh…” Bucky blinked at the abrupt announcement. He’d known about the Battle of New York, of course, but never thought to hear about it from Loki himself. He exchanged a bewildered glance with Shuri. “I’m sure you’re sorry?”

                “Are you? Because I’m not sure that I am. When one’s mind is in the thrall of a being so much greater than one’s own self, one does as one must to survive.” Loki said, leaning forward. “Defenestration and all. At any rate, that particular bit was all me. A bit satisfying, really. He was being an irritant.” Loki crinkled his nose as he cast his mind back to New York and tossing Stark out of a window, and Bucky was fairly certain something was still wrong with his brain because he actually thought the expression was kind of cute, and he really needed to get a hold of himself before Shuri noticed. It could not be an endearing nose-crinkle if it was being formed in memory of defenestrating one of Earth’s defenders, Bucky told himself.

                “Perhaps this is not something you want to brag about, Magic Man.” Shuri warned.

                “Why not?” Loki raised his hands in a demonstrative shrug. “It’s not as though I can do it again. I did pledge upon my troth. You recorded it with your instruments, child, or have you forgotten? Well, then, Bucky?” Loki was leaning forward again, interest on his face.

                “… Well then, what?” Bucky asked, carefully keeping the apprehension from his voice. _Not cute, Barnes. Dangerous, not cute._  

                “I’ve shared my offensive exploits with Anthony Stark. Fair exchange, one fugitive to another—what did you do to him?”

                Bucky shut down, pushing back from the table. Any and all thoughts of attraction drained from his mind as Howard and Maria Stark flitted through his mind. Shuri started to reach for him, but he shrugged from her. This. This was not something he could face right now, not when it had lead to the look Steve had had on his face when he thought Bucky wasn’t looking, that sad, guilty look. Not when he could remember his hands killing the Starks, when he could remember that last look of surprise on Howard’s face when he’d realized who was killing him.

                “Bucky—” Loki began, having straightened from his casual lean. “I did not mean—”

                “Killed his parents.” Bucky said abruptly, which seemed to knock the wind out of his roommate. “I killed his parents.” He said again, more softly this time. Then he turned and walked down the hall to his room. He sat on his mattress, back taught, feeling the phantom pain in his arm. He turned to the paper taped to his wall, and began his mantra.

                “James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Sargant, US Army…”

                Loki frowned as Bucky walked away, stiff as a board. He hadn’t intended for his questions to cause his new friend harm. That seemed to be Loki’s lot in life, he reflected. He inflicted harm whether he meant to or not. As for the answer he had received… Loki could see how so personal an act could drive Stark away, whether Bucky had had any say in it or no. To lose one’s parents… even if one’s parents hadn’t always met one’s needs, it was traumatic. It hurt. Frigga’s death was yet an open wound to Loki, who’d been denied the right to mourn her properly. And Odin… Loki did not like to think about Odin. That was more complicated, and required more soul-searching than he typically allowed himself to do.

                “Why did you have to go and do that?” Shuri’s voice startled Loki out of his reverie. “Now he will be upset for the rest of the day. I was hoping to get him off this farm for a moment, you know.”

                “It was not my intent to upset him so.” Loki turned his attention back to the young princess. She looked unimpressed, and ridiculously he found himself wanting to be believed. “Truly, I did not.”

                “Then what did you mean to do?”

                “I…” For a moment, Loki’s silver tongue failed him. “I was curious.” He finished lamely. It was the truth—at least in part. He liked to know things, to have leverage. But then again, he also felt the urge to needle and poke. It was in his nature to agitate, to cause unrest. It was a habit that had caused him no small degree of trouble over the centuries. And yet, Shuri softened, a little smile coming onto her face.

                “Perhaps you do not have this expression where you are from, but have you heard about what curiosity does to cats?”

                “To cats?” Loki crinkled his nose. “We have no such expression. What does curiosity do to cats?”

                “Kills them.” Shuri grinned broadly at Loki’s bamboozled expression. “’Curiosity killed the cat,’ my mama and brother always tell me. It means that if you look into things too deeply, or get too nosy, you can cause harm. To yourself, to your friends.”

                “I see.” Loki sat in the seat that Bucky had just vacated. “Perhaps there is some wisdom to it. We don’t have such a saying, but Mother did often urge me to control certain urges.”

                “Like the urge to poke at everything until it explodes?”

                “One might say that.” Loki acknowledged. “Barnes feels he is culpable for his actions then?”

                “Do you not?” Shuri asked, tilting her head inquisitively.

                “I… I did what I had to in order to survive.” He hedged. Then his mouth twitched and his shoulders slumped. “I am not given to feelings of guilt, typically, but there were certain actions I took that I may yet have done, whether I was being… influenced… or no. I was very angry at my brother. And my father.” He let out a soft snort. “And of course, my actions before the Titan took hold of me… those were mine, and mine alone, regardless of the circumstances that pushed me there. But clearly Bucky’s situation is different—what happened then, that was… conditioning, I think is the term. The flow of his natural energies were disrupted, as though his own mind had disappeared entirely for a moment.”

                “You could see the change of his neural pathways when the Soldier awakened?” Shuri asked, fascinated. She drew up a projection from her beads, explaining that it was a monitor of Bucky’s brainwaves. “You could see this? With only your eyes?”

                Loki examined the projection with interest, comparing the computer generation to what his own senses had given him. It was not precisely accurate, but remarkably similar. It was amazing, sometimes, what humans could achieve even with their own inherent lack of magic. Loki thought that there had been some similar, though more advanced technology on Asgard in the healer’s rooms. He wondered if Thor would consider bringing their remaining healers to Wakanda—their people could learn much from each other. It would be a strong negotiating point—the strength of Earth’s heroes was beginning to attract other worldly attention, and Midgard would benefit greatly from the knowledge the Asgardians could bring them.

                “In a manner of speaking,” he said at last in answer to Shuri’s question, shaking off his concern for his people. There was little he could do for them, stuck here as he was. “I… felt it, more than saw it. But that is because, as a sorcerer, I am more attuned to the energies around me than most. It is difficult to explain, I think, to someone who has no magic themselves.” But then he saw Shuri’s eager face and gave a small smile. “But we may as well try, no? Come, Princess, let us go outside. I will show your instruments a thing or two, and we’ll see if you can make sense of them.”

                With that, the two went back out into the field, and Loki allowed himself to get lost in his magic, performing everything from small illusions to shapeshifting (Einar whinnied in approval to see his horse form again), and Shuri recorded, asking surprisingly insightful questions in between demonstrations. Loki found himself asking her questions as well, about her technology and her understanding of the world. They spoke and played until the sun began to drop lower in the sky. Neither of them noticed that within the house, Bucky Barnes watched from his window, mantra long since abandoned, with a small smile on his face.

                An ocean away from Wakanda, Thor sat with Tony and Rhodey, trying very hard not to fidget with nerves. Tony had just finished speaking to the man he called “Ross”, and Thor would have to speak to him as well. Thor longed as he never had for his parents, or for his brother to be close at hand. One misstep in this, and negotiations would be over before they’d begun. It had never been his strong point. Tony, he knew, would do his utmost to help because he was an honorable man. Thor just hoped it would be enough.

                “Our Guest is here, Boss.” Friday’s voice chimed. Thor straightened his shoulders as Tony and Rhodey met eyes and nodded at each other. Here, his mettle as King would be tested. Bruce wandered in with a cup of tea in hand, comfortably in his own clothes again. He pressed a hand to Thor’s shoulder in support.

                “Send him up, Fri.” Tony said, tossing a lazy salute in Bruce’s direction. Tony had become far less agitated since his fellow scientist had made his return to Earth, Thor had noticed. Rhodey gave Bruce a small, quick grin of greeting. He had likely noticed too and was grateful. Rhodey had stayed loyal at Tony’s side for many years, Thor knew, and was not likely to budge from that position. With his position in the military, he would also be helpful in convincing the Earth’s powers to allow Asgard refuge. He only hoped it would be enough—

                The doors slid open, and Thor recognized the man who walked through with an echo of surprise in his chest.

                “I know everyone isn’t on exactly the best terms right now, and we’ve got a lot of bridges to mend.” Steve Rogers said as he stopped in front of the table they were all sitting at, addressing Tony and Rhodey first. Tony tilted his head, his mouth a thin line, and Rhodey shifted uncomfortably. “But, ah… Tony and I figured that the Avengers might want to present a united front on this one so…” Steve pulled out one of the extra chairs and sat across from Thor. “Let’s get your people a home, huh?”

                Thor grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this Winterfrost thing? It's gonna burn slow. But it's coming, I promise. Also, don't think Cap and Tony are buddies again. They're not. It's gonna take some work. A lot of work. But that's for later... possibly even for another story. We'll see.  
> I eat comments for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner. Feed your hungry author. Thank you!


	5. Bonding and Breakfast Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Loki have a talk. Maybe even two. Einar thinks the rhinos are uppity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess that I wrote half this chapter with a fever and so I'm not totally happy with it... but this was a scene I wanted to get out on schedule. I might edit it more later. Einar love to Slicey, as always.

            That night, Bucky had a nightmare.

            It wasn’t surprising, really. Sessions with Shuri often left him fighting the demons of the Soldier in his dreams. That didn’t mean it didn’t suck when he bolted upright in his bed, a feral shout on his lips and the knife beneath his pillow slashing furiously at the empty air above him. He was rank with sweat. It was still dark outside, but the horizon was beginning to glow. He glared up at the paper on the wall, eyes flicking over his mantra as he mouthed the words to himself. Forced himself to remember Steve’s face, the feeling of his arm around his shoulders. He took a shaky breath, recalled Shuri’s hand on his, reminds himself to add “Favorite White Boy” to his mantra.

            Remembers sharp green eyes, a shark like smile, and a laugh as free as the wind. Loki. His roommate, who knew about the Soldier now, and who had apparently thrown Tony Stark out a window once. Bucky snorted to himself. If the ingenuity was anything to go by, Tony was Howard’s son in more ways than one. He’d probably be prone to some window throwing himself—but then his train of thought crashed to a halt.

            Howard. Maria. Blown out tires and snapped necks. _Missiya vypolnena._

            Bucky barely made it to the bathroom in time before he started throwing up. Steve and Shuri and even T’Challa could talk about fault and brainwashing and whatever excuses they had lined up for him all they wanted, but it would never change what his hands had done. His hand. His back and shoulder ached as he retched, missing the weight of his left arm- metal or not. He rested his sweaty forehead against the toilet. He needed a goddamn drink.

            Across the house, Loki’s sleep was also troubled. He drifted in and out of restless sleep, the Mad Titan and his Black Order waiting for him each time he closed his eyes. Sometimes, in his dreams, he miscalculated, and the Chitauri army defeated the Avengers, and Thanos took the space stone, the mind stone, and Thor’s head on a pike to Asgard to wreak destruction there. Sometimes there was no Thanos, and his dream was simply the endless dark of Ginnungagap, with its incredibly loud silence. Sometimes that was worse than Thanos. Sometimes he dreamed of his children, and those were the worst dreams of all, because they began with all the makings of a peaceful sleep, and a happy memory, before gruesome reality took hold.

 Most recently, he dreamed of arriving too late to save Asgard’s people from Hela. He dreamed of everyone he’d ever known, dead before him, and Hela laughing, refusing to take him as well. That was something he thought his sister might have in common with the Mad Titan—a refusal to simply let him die. Tonight, his dreams were a combination of all his worst—more lucky him, he mused bitterly. He shook his head to rid himself of Surtur’s flames, the dead faces of his brother and his sons, and Hela’s distant laughter. One day, perhaps, the Norns would return restful sleep to him, but he imagined he had centuries of terror ahead of him first.

Glancing out the window, he noted the faint glow at the horizon which indicated the approaching Dawn. He stood and stretched, deciding to have a glass of water and perhaps some more Cheerios before heading out to see Einar. Einar was a young soul in an old body—rather the opposite of Sleipnir, Loki reflected, then grimaced as frightened whinnies echoed in his mind. He shook himself again. It did not do to think of his son. Either of his sons. There was only pain there. He walked down the hall towards the kitchen, feet bare and hair hanging loose. He did not bother with his usual glamour to tame his hair and wipe the bags from under his eyes—there was no point in wasting his magic when there was no one to look pretty for.

Except, when he got to the kitchen, there was. Bucky stood at the entrance to his side of the house, frozen, eyes wide and locked immediately onto Loki as he’d stepped from his own hall. The mortal looked worse than Loki felt—eyes dark and bruised looking from poor sleep, his right hand rubbing at his bereft shoulder, only one sock on and his pale face shining with sweat.

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment, each assessing the situation.

“Loki?” Bucky asked softly, eyes still wide. Loki’s nose crinkled as he frowned and Bucky relaxed some. “Okay. Loki. I didn’t recognize you for a second.” He advanced further into the kitchen, heading for the sink.

“It is a wonder that you found any of your marks as the Soldier, if a bed head can throw you so off the mark.” Loki sniped, miffed. He generally took pride in his appearance, and surely it was not as bad as all that. Bucky’s back tightened as he stood stock still in front of the sink, clearly forcing himself to take a deep breath. Damn. There went Loki’s tendency of poking sharp sticks at soft holes again. He needed to live peaceably with this other man. “I apologize.” He said stiffly. “I meant no offense. Truly.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, and he reached to a shelf, pulling down one glass and then another.

“It wasn’t the hair so much as the blue skin. And the red eyes. Never really had a mission do that.” Bucky said casually, and Loki’s world crashed to a halt for a second.

_Oh, Shit._ How had he not noticed before? He hadn’t even felt himself change, and that was truly horrifying. Previously, changing was a rare, conscious choice, and he could always feel the ice creep up his fingers. Since the death of the All-Father, he found his Aesir form slipping away in his exhaustion more often, as the glamor now relied entirely on his own magic, but he’d always felt it, he’d always _felt—_

Loki turned sharply away, aware suddenly that the wood beneath his feet was beginning to frost. His mind was too unsettled, he thought wildly, staring at his blue, faintly clawed hands. Norns above, if Narfi could see him like this, how he’d scream—but no, he is not thinking of his children. He is not thinking of anything. He’s just going to drag his pale Aesir appearance back over his body like a second skin—his real skin—and he would go straight to Einar, and the human could think him a continuation of his nightmares and nothing more.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice dragged him from his thoughts, and almost involuntarily he turned back towards the human, forcing heat into his face, feeling the ridges there smooth over as he affixed his glamor. “It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” Bucky did his one-armed shrug. “You’re from space, being blue in the fuck-all hours of the morning can’t be that weird. If you could turn the heat back up though, that’d be swell. Don’t want ice on my socks. Well, sock.” Buck pointed down at the frosted floor beneath Loki’s feet.

Loki felt his cheeks flush as his eyes swirled from red back to green. Of course, what could Bucky know? He was mortal, and not one of the ones who had worshipped Thor, Odin, and Loki as gods so many centuries ago. What could he know of the monster lurking within Loki’s skin? He did not know enough to be afraid. Loki focused on completing his transformation, and the frost on the wood retreated back into him. He was keenly aware of Bucky’s eyes on him.

“Apologies.” He said again, stiff lipped, and began to start for the door. Perhaps Einar would like to graze with him, and speak of nothing more serious than the sky above them.

“Wait.” Bucky reached out to stop him. “You, ah… You want a glass of water? You look like you could use one, and so could I.”

“I…” Loki’s attention focused on Bucky’s hand against his bare arm, feeling almost preternaturally warm to his still-cool skin. Touching him. So few people have touched him in the last decade without meaning him harm. Almost no one has. And certainly not after having seen him as a Frost Giant. But Bucky stood there, no hint of malice or deceit in his eyes, his face soft and almost… understanding? What exactly did he think he understood? Then Loki’s eyes drifted to the space where Bucky’s right arm would be, and Loki thinks he might understand too. “I would be amenable.” He ventured eventually, and was surprised to find himself mourning the loss of Bucky’s hand on his skin as the mortal turned back to the sink. He watched Bucky turn on the tap, pinch the two glasses by the rims between his fingers and fill them both up, setting them down on the counter nearer to Loki. With a damp hand, he flicked the tap off and reached for the dish towel to wipe dry off, cursing as it slipped off its holder onto the floor.

Loki picked it up.

Slowly, with neither of them saying a word, Loki reached out and took Bucky’s wrist gently in his hand. Using far more care than was necessary, he dried the hand off, nearly massaging it. He did not dare look into Bucky’s eyes again, for fear of finding rejection. He focused instead on moving the dish towel between callused fingers. There was no sound in the room but for Bucky’s shallow breathing. The excuse of helping to dry Bucky’s hand ran out, but Loki was not ready to let go.

He was touching Bucky, and Bucky was touching him. They were not hurting each other. Neither was pleading with the other one to see things his way. They simply… were. Loki had forgotten moments like this could exist. After another moment, Bucky’s fingers twitched, and Loki came back to himself. He released his roommate’s hand and busied himself with returning the towel to its holder properly. When he looked up Bucky was holding out one of the glasses towards him. Gingerly, he took it, this time careful not to let their fingers brush—who knew what madness that would inspire in him. He took a long sip of his water, and brushed the excess moisture off his lips.

“Well, if you’ve come to retreat from your demons, I doubt I will be much help.” Loki said lightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to.” Bucky said, almost too quickly. “I mean, you looked kinda… rough yourself. Not because of the blue or anything. Just… rough. Like maybe you could use some company.”

“You’ve just seen me look like a monster out of fairy tales, and you wish for the comfort of my company?” Loki balked. Bucky may not know what a Jotun was, but Loki knew enough of humans to know that his Jotun form was still unseemly. “I do not need your pity, Barnes. Take it elsewhere, I’ve no use for it.”

“Do you try to be an ass or does it just come naturally to you?” Bucky snapped, his muscles noticeably tightening beneath the t-shirt and shorts he wore. Loki’s own body tensed in return, and he readied himself for a punch to be thrown, had a scathing retort resting comfortably on his tongue, and then… Bucky inhaled through his nose, and assumed a carefully relaxed pose, deliberately coming out of the ready stance he’d slipped into. “It takes more than blue skin to scare me, pal. I saw the Red Skull take his damn face off, that was plenty more disturbing. If you wanna be alone, go be alone. But I’ll be on the couch.” And with that, Bucky took his glass and walked into the room beyond the kitchen, throwing himself down on the couch and flicking on the television.

Loki stared after Bucky, who was now drinking his water and using a remote to navigate through the screen in front of him. What the hell was a Red Skull, and why did its face come off? Was it the deficiencies left still in Bucky’s brain that left him without the sense to turn Loki away? And more importantly, why was the invitation—not that it was a proper invitation, but it was at the very least a challenge to join him, which Loki considered to be the same thing—actually tempting? Loki glanced out the window once more and thought longingly of the simplicity of being a horse. Einar was lucky, really. Then he took his glass and sat gingerly on the other side of the couch from Bucky, who glanced at him with a lazy smile.

“You like nature documentaries?”

Loki shrugged.

“Settle in then, we’re gonna learn allllll about the deep blue sea.” Bucky pressed a button to select a program called “Blue Earth” and reclined in the couch. After a moment of watching him, Loki allowed himself to relax enough to let his back rest against the back of the couch.

Within minutes, he wondered how difficult it would be to turn into a Hammerhead shark.

            “So then, if you were a shark, would you get the teeth? You know, always have another row to regrow?” Bucky was turned towards Loki, his arm stretched along the couch behind him, eyes alight with interest.

            “I imagine so, though I cannot imagine what on this planet could knock out one of _my_ teeth.” Loki’s legs were crossed on the couch, in spite of Bucky’s occasional nudging for him to keep his feet on the floor. “The Hulk taught Tony Stark’s floor quite a lesson with my face, you know, and I barely suffered a chip.” He boasted, though that moment was certainly not his proudest. “I’m quite durable, regardless of what form I take.”

            “So you’d be a super powered shark, basically.” Bucky’s eyes were wide again, but this time in wonder rather than surprise.

            “Basically, though my control over my magic in such a form would be tenuous at best. I just wonder what it would _feel_ like, to be so powerful in water.” He paused to reflect. “I was a fish once, centuries ago. Not very strong, though—Thor caught me by the tail.”

            Bucky laughed, then stood and stretched. The house was now bathed in sunlight from the windows, and changed the mortal’s eyes from stormy grey to clear blue. He smiled down at Loki, relaxed in a way Loki was not used to having other people be in his presence.

            “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to put the soup on.” He started off towards the kitchen as Loki unfolded himself from the couch.

            “Breakfast soup?” Loki asked. “You will make it properly this time?”

            “Hey, I made it properly last time.” Bucky defended. “Not my fault you and Stevie like to besmirch a perfectly good coffee with milk and sugar.”

            “Right, coffee.” Loki eyed Bucky suspiciously as the man pulled out the pot and filled it with water to boil. “Shuri seemed to think you made it wrong as well, the sou—the coffee.”

            “Shuri’s a kid.” Bucky dismissed. “A genius, but still a kid. Kids don’t know good Breakfast Soup.”

            “I thought you said it was called coffee?” Loki leaned against the counter to watch Bucky work. The water had begun to boil and Bucky was scooping heaping spoonful after heaping spoonful of grounds into it. Bucky flashed a grin at Loki.

            “It is. But I think I like our name for it better. ‘Breakfast Soup,’ it sounds more essential. C’mere.”

            “I am here.” Loki stated. He was opening the cupboard and reaching for the Cheerios, but then he paused when Bucky tugged at his shirt. There was that casual contact again.

            “You can’t just live on cereal you know. Don’t tell me the 2,000 year old Prince can’t cook?”

            Loki allowed himself to be tugged over towards the stove, marveling at the ease of it. Not since Sigyn had anyone been so unguarded around him. A far cry from the tension after Shuri’s session yesterday, Bucky was open and light, easy with his touches and smiles.

            “I’ve served Asgard on many campaigns.” Loki said belatedly. “I learned to cook in the field. In the palace I had no need.”

            “So you’re good over a fire, but not so much over a stove, huh?”

            “More or less. Stoves on Asgard did not have… all this.” Loki gestured vaguely at the knobs and buttons on the stove top and the electric burners. He watched as Bucky removed the Breakfast Soup from the heat and stirred.

            “This has to boil again to seep properly. Do you mind grabbing the pan?” Bucky twitched his head in the direction of the drying rack. Loki retrieved the pan, and then the butter and eggs from the fridge at Bucky’s instruction. He greased the pan and cracked the eggs, cursing when bits of shell fell into the pan. Bucky laughed and nudged him aside with his hip, placing the coffee back on another burner and grabbing a fork to pick the eggshells out. He stood close enough that Loki could feel the heat radiating from his body, and that he must surely feel Loki’s breath on his shoulder, but the other man did not break his rhythm or seem to mind that one of the worst villains to have ever set foot on his planet is standing scant inches behind him. Instead, all was peaceful; and the peace itched at Loki. It was out of place in his life of late. One did not go from bringing about the destruction of the Realm Eternal to… making breakfast in some cozy little Midgardian kitchen. He pulled back suddenly, causing Bucky to fumble a moment to regain the balance of what he was doing.

            “What gives?” Bucky asked, carefully turning the pan so the handle could not be knocked around by any more sudden movements and then turning the heat down again on the Breakfast Soup. Loki found himself disinclined to explain his unease.

            “Why do you not use a prosthetic?” He returned instead, drawing carefully into his own space and resisting the urge to smooth the now furrowed brow of his roommate. “Surely the young Princess has presented you with options.” Bucky’s face twitched, and he gave that one armed shrug as he surveyed their breakfast.

            “Why don’t you just stay blue?” He shot back. Loki stiffened, the tension from the previous day beginning to return. Tension was familiar. It was dynamic. Loki could work with tension… and yet, he regretted being the cause of the newly-returned wariness in Bucky’s eyes, the exhausted slump of his shoulders. Loki chewed on his lip for a moment. The silence hovered between them for a moment, then Bucky sighed.

            “Okay, pal, grab the plates and set the table. I feel like if we don’t talk this out one of us is going to stab the other one at some point.”

            Loki snorted. If only Bucky knew, he thought, remembering with some fondness Thor’s indignant yelp the first time Loki’d surprised him with a dagger to the arm. Nevertheless, he did as Bucky asked, and before long the two were settled at the table with a plate of eggs and a mug of Breakfast Soup each (Loki’d watched carefully to make sure Bucky’d modified his appropriately).

            “Alright. So, what was that about?” Bucky asked as he shoveled some egg into his mouth. Loki shifted, taking his time in cutting up his eggs. Bucky’s voice softened and he nudged Loki with his socked foot. “Hey. We gotta hash this out, okay? Who knows how long we’re stuck together. I ain’t gonna judge you or get pissed. I just want to know what gets you all agitated, so I don’t do it. And then maybe you can stop tryin’ to piss me off so hard.”

            “I…” _Would much prefer to have this conversation with the horse_ , “I am not trying to piss you off.” Loki allowed that much, and then took a bite of his food. Bucky kept looking at him expectantly, and Loki swallowed, told himself _For Asgard_ , and continued. “I am not the God of Mischief and Chaos for nothing. Peace, stagnation… it sits ill with me, especially of late. There was a time when the comforts of home came more easily. These past years, though…” Loki waved his mug. “They have become more strange to me than ever. Oddly enough…”

            “Every minute you spend taking a breath is a minute you spend waiting for the other shoe to drop?” Bucky asked as Loki trailed off. “When things get too easy, it doesn’t feel real? Feels like somethin’ they can take away from you, so you’d better leave it?” Bucky snorted at Loki’s surprised expression. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that.”

            “I did not expect that.” Loki said quietly.

            “Well, I didn’t expect to be an unstable 100 year old super soldier with an occasionally blue alien-god for a roommate. But you learn to roll with these things.” Bucky said easily, taking a swig of his own pitch-black drink. “And if you play nice, sometimes you get Breakfast Soup.”

            The two smiled at each other and tapped their mugs together.

            “To Breakfast Soup, then.” Loki said softly. “I am sorry.”

            “To Breakfast Soup.” Bucky grinned. “We’ll work on it.”

            “You get a chance to look around yet?” Bucky asked hours later, sitting on a bale of hay as Loki brushed out Einar’s mane. The horse was not as energetic today, his joints causing him pain, but he’d perked up on seeing the two of them.

            “I saw the city briefly when I first arrived, but I was brought here directly.” Loki said. “I was under the impression that I’m meant to stay here.”

            “Well, maybe we shouldn’t go to the city,” Bucky allowed. “I don’t really like to—too many people, you know? Don’t like to risk it. But I go around to the other farms sometimes. To the Border tribe farms. I like to help out, see the rhinos.”

            “Rhinos?” Loki paused, and Einar stomped one of his hooves, snorting irritably. Loki chuckled. “I am sure no such creature could ever pass you in my esteem, my friend.” He soothed, resuming his brushing.

            “He doesn’t like the rhinos?”

            “Thinks they’re, ah, uppity.” Loki grinned. “I do believe he intends to chaperone us if we make such a visit.”

            _You must not be taken in, Friend-Prince Loki. They put on airs, they think they are better because they are bigger and then they hog the watermelons and act like they own the river and they don’t._

            “Peace, Einar.” Loki chuckled. He glanced at Bucky’s bemused expression. “I think a trip to see the rhinos might be fun. We will be sure to remind them that they do not own the river or the watermelons.”

            Bucky laughed out loud, but Einar stomped his hooves, more in earnest.

            _You and Hurt-Friend Bucky must not swim with them until they make the promise. They do not make room for those smaller than they are. Uppity, and overindulged._

            “Ah, of course. And we do not indulge you, not a whit.” Loki soothed, finishing his brushing. Bucky stood and ran his hand over Einar’s neck, allowing him to hear some of the conversation.

            _You have only been here for 3 sunsets, Friend-Prince Loki. And before you came I had no name. I am not indulged._ Einar was definitely sulking now.

            “How many times am I gonna be apologizing for the name thing?” Bucky asked, stroking Einar’s shoulder. “I didn’t know, okay? Look, I’ll give you apples every day or something.”

            _That would be fair._

            “And not at all indulgent.” Loki said dryly. “I think it’s settled then—a trip is in order. If you are up for travel, Einar?”

            _It is not far._ Einar shook himself. _And I am strong enough to show my friends to the Uppity Rhinos. Perhaps we can swim when we get there. It is nice to swim._

            “If I wanted to swim, I’d be a fish,” Loki commented as he followed Bucky and Einar along the field towards where the trolley had left him—was it only 3 days ago?

            _Not a fish._ Einar said firmly. _You can swim as a horse, Friend-Prince Loki._

            “And for those of us who can’t shape shift,” Bucky said, waving at the children on the farm they were passing through. “I guess I’ll just watch.” Einar nudged him with his nose.

            _You will swim too, Hurt-Friend Bucky. We will help you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, not completely happy with this chapter. After this I can stop taking it day by day, and we'll have more time skips and plot and stuff. Probably. If the characters don't run away with me.


	6. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Loki, and Einar visit the Rhinos. This chapter includes a bratty horse, a bamboozled W'Kabi, an aching Bucky, and a nostalgic Loki. There may be a magical massage somewhere as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL, here I am folks! Behind schedule, I know, but it's a long chapter to compensate. Thanks as always to Slicey for helping me look after Einar.

           Their visit to the rhinos was… eventful, to say a word. Einhar had insisted that one of them ride him at least the last mile; Loki explained to Bucky that it was a matter of pride, and that having a rider would be good for the old horse. Bucky’d tried to argue that he’d never ridden a horse in his life, that even one handed he was bulkier than Loki, but Loki’d laughed and explained that lithe though he was, he was denser than a human, and that everyone ought to learn to ride some time. Bucky was convinced at last by Einhar _full on shoulder checking him_ , leading to him falling flat on his face. Loki started cackling and Einhar had let out a wheezing sort of sound before presenting his side to Bucky in clear invitation.

            “He did not mean to knock you over,” Loki’d said through chuckles. “I did say that I am sturdier than you.”

            “I can’t… don’t I need a saddle or reins or something?”

            “We would not let you fall, and Einar does not need guidance. Also you’ve offended him again so you’d better climb on.”

            And so it came to be that Bucky’d arrived at W’Kabi and Okoye’s property with a death grip on Einar’s mane and his thigh’s clenched painfully (to him) around the horse’s body. He thought he noticed Loki glancing at his legs appreciatively, but instead chose to focus on the god’s smirk as he kept one hand on Einar’s flank while they walked. He was pretty sure Einar and Loki were telepathically talking shit about him.

            “I never thought to see the White Wolf on a horse.” W’Kabi’s voice called from the paddock where the rhinos were kept. Bucky was impressed by them as always, with their magnificent horns and ceremonial armor on the herd leaders. The first time he’d seen them, he’d been wary, certain they were a minute away from going wild… but then Okoye had come by and received a very sloppy kiss on the cheek from the one they called Simahla, and Bucky’d relaxed a bit.  

            “The horse was very insistent.” Bucky called back, clenching his thighs impossibly tighter around Einar as the horse turned and approached the paddock, head held high and not seeming to mind Bucky’s death grip on his mane. “His name is Einar, by the way. He wants to go for a swim.”

            Just beyond the paddock was a gently flowing river that fed into the lake Bucky’d stayed near when he’d first come out of cryo in Wakanda. The rhinos often occupied it, coating themselves in cooling mud. W’Kabi raised his brow, but then the man’s attention was captured by Loki approaching the paddock.

            “I did not expect that you would bring this one with you, Barnes.” W’Kabi said distrustfully.

            “On the contrary, my friend, ‘this one’ brought Barnes with him.” Loki answered, meeting W’Kabi’s eyes. “Einar has told me about your rhinos, and I found myself curious.”

            “Your horse has mentioned my rhinos? It was not mentioned that you were mad as well as wicked. Take care, Trickster, they are loyal to the Border Tribe.” W’Kabi warned as Loki approached the paddock. Loki, naturally, took no heed and reached a hand in to press against the hide of the nearest rhino—Bucky thought from the saddle that this one’s name was Uzuko. The rhino startled, but then turned towards Loki in a way not dissimilar from how Einar did when the two communed.

            “Please don’t turn into a rhinoceros.” Bucky called, shifting on Einar’s back and trying not to yelp when the horse snorted indignantly.

            “Now see, you’ve upset him. I’ve no intention of changing into such a creature, I’m only saying hello.” Loki said. “And you are quite right, they are very loyal beasts. You are good to them. Uzuko is very happy here, and not uppity at all, by the by.”

            Einar snorted again and stomped his front hoof. Bucky wished fervently that he could get down without falling on his ass.

            “What is this magic, Trickster?” W’Kabi demanded, watching Loki with Uzuko unhappily.

            “It is All-Speak.” Loki replied, turning his attention to W’Kabi more fully. “That is why, right now, you are hearing me speak Xhosa, while Bucky there still hears English.”

            W’Kabi startled to hear his native tongue fall flawlessly from Loki’s mouth. Bucky frowned in Loki’s direction.

            “Wait were you… speaking English on purpose before?”

            “I was. While All-Speak is useful, there are times I do not wish to be understood by everyone in the vicinity. I am the Trickster God, as our surly friend has pointed out, agent of chaos and weaver of lies. It is far more difficult to create mischief when just anyone can understand what I say, you know.” Loki flashed his sharky grin over to Bucky, who couldn’t help grinning back, though he quickly straightened his mouth when faced with W’Kabi’s stern expression.

            “You are not welcome to any mischief here, Trickster.” W’Kabi said sternly, and hearing their master’s tone of voice the rhinos began to stomp their feet in anticipation of some battle.

            “I do not intend any mischief here. You are hardly worth the effort. However, you would do well to remember that you are not speaking to some paltry magician. You speak to Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard. I prefer my name, and it is not Trickster.” In that moment, Loki looked every inch the royal person he was, radiated confidence and power. If it weren’t for the oath Loki had taken, Bucky would fear for W’Kabi’s safety. As it was, he was starting to fear for _someone’s_ safety, because if anything Loki was making W’Kabi angrier. He knocked a heel into Einar’s side and the horse obediently walked forward until he was level with the paddock.

            “Look we don’t want any trouble, okay? We’ve seen the rhinos, the river is a bit further down. We’re gonna go, okay, W’Kabi? No harm, no foul, right?” Bucky did his best to break the staring contest Loki and W’Kabi were having with each other.

            “W’Kabi, is it?” Loki asked, and his voice was silky and sly, not at all like when he was at home. Bucky tried to send out his best “please shut up right now” vibes to Loki, but naturally the prince was heedless. “And are you a powerful leader, as your name suggests, or are you an angry boy with big strong pets?”

            W’Kabi snarled and Bucky wished with all his might to be _anywhere but here_ , but then a clear, strong voice rang out from behind the paddock.

            “My husband is indeed a powerful leader… but he is sometimes an angry man as well. The rhinoceroses are warriors along side us, not pets.” Okoye strode to stand beside W’Kabi, resting a calming hand on his head. “Prince Loki, you will forgive W’Kabi’s temper, and we will forgive your slight. You gave an oath for peace in Wakanda.”

            “I did.” Loki nodded his head in her direction.  “I can harm no human, nor act to the detriment of Wakanda. But I have not left myself so crippled that I am undefended—I hope you will remember that in the future, W’Kabi. You seem to me to be a strong man—Uzuko tells me you are the leader of your tribe. But leaders must reign in both pride and temper for the good of their people. Perhaps that is why I make for such a poor one.” Loki’s stance was nonchalant now, his hands spread at his sides as if to indicate his honesty. But Bucky had learned to read the prince’s smiles, was learning to hear the layers in his voice, and he could see that beneath the veneer of confidence was self-deprecation, and he could hear the sadness behind the wisdom. He wanted to reach out, to touch Loki’s arm, but he did not dare to let go of Einar. The horse must have sensed his thoughts somehow though, as his nose came to rest on Loki’s shoulder.  
            “You think to lecture me?” W’Kabi said incredulously, though he no longer seemed primed for battle.

            “I think to give you some of the wisdom I have earned over the centuries. There is quite a lot of it. I’ve not put it to much use of late, and so my existence here has been hard earned. I offer you this in reparation for the slight I gave you.” Loki’s lips twitched into a smirk. “I have been told recently that I have a habit of poking sharp sticks at everything. My apologies for poking you, W’Kabi. For we have something to ask of you. Of you both.” Loki included Okoye in his statement. She raised a brow and waved a hand for him to continue.

            “This is Einar. You can see that he’s quite old- and that was not an insult, Einar, don’t snort like that- and he would like to swim and have some melons. It that in the past, the rhinos have made swimming unsafe for him, and melons scarce. He is a good horse, with a strong spirit. May we swim in peace over there?” Loki pointed to the river beyond the paddock, where three rhinos were at play.

            W’Kabi and Okoye smiled at each other, and W’Kabi let out a chuckle, finally relaxing his stance.

            “Your horse has a strong opinion regarding my rhinos, then?”

            “Rather.” Loki said. “I think it is at least in part a failure of communication—mortals cannot understand all creatures has I can. But now that I am here to mediate…?” Loki raised a brow. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He hoped this would get resolved soon, he couldn’t feel his thighs any more.

            “Very well. Come, I will assist with this ‘mediating’.” W’Kabi gestured for them to follow.

            “Perhaps let Sargant Barnes down first?” Okoye called after them. “Riding bareback is no easy thing.”

            Bucky thanked every deity that there ever was for Okoye’s existence.

            “When we get to the water;” Loki said, crushing Bucky’s hopes for immediate relief. “It will be easier there—once he is down I do not think he will want to walk overmuch.”

            And so they went down to the river, and after some spoken orders from W’Kabi, and some communing from Loki, Einar was shoulder deep in the river, moving about happily. Loki helped Bucky down from Einar’s back… and as it turned out, the god had been right. He never wanted to move again. Literally every muscle was throbbing.

            “You’re such a bastard,” he groaned at Loki, collapsing on the river bank.

            “Am I?” Loki asked, clearly amused. “I suppose it’s possible. I don’t know if Frost Giants marry.”

            “You fucking knew this was gonna kill me.” Bucky accused.

            “I assure you, you’re far from dead.”

            “You know what I mean, asshole.” Bucky let his head drop onto the grass, then yelped as he was lifted into the air and dropped unceremoniously into the river.

            “What the hell?” He sputtered as he surfaced from his unplanned dunk.

            “You will feel better in the water. And you told Einar you’d swim with us.” With that, Loki slid into the water too, a shimmer of green and gold removing his shirt and boots, leaving them dry on the grass. Bucky thought his pants changed too, seeming more suited to water in their new material.

            “Neat trick.” Bucky said, pointedly not staring at Loki’s bared chest, instead looking down at his own wet clothes. “I guess I’m left going home soaking wet and in pain. Just like the good ol’ days.”

            “That does not sound like a good old day.” Loki said, paddling over to him. An arm went around Bucky’s torso, letting him stabilize himself.

            “It’s a figure of speech. Had a lot of days like that during the war.”

            “I see. At any rate, you will be perfectly dry when we head home, I assure you.” Loki and Bucky both looked up as Einar came splashing towards them, whinnying with eagerness. “Now, let’s swim.”

            The pair spent two hours swimming with their horse, with Einar and Loki giving Bucky the occasional supportive shoulder. After a while, Bucky found a rock to sit on which let him keep his head and shoulders over the water so he could rest and let the water distract him from his aching muscles. Loki then obliged Einar by turning into a horse so they could swim together—this had prompted a shout of surprise from W’Kabi, and, never one to miss an opportunity to show off, Loki then transformed into a large fish and darted up and down the river, weaving between Einar’s legs and around the startled hippos. It was only when Einar let out an indignant whinny that Loki changed back into the dappled grey horse and swam with him again as promised.

            “Does he do that often?” W’Kabi whispered to Bucky.

            “He likes to show off.” Bucky whispered back, allowing fondness to sneak into his voice.

            When they emerged from the river, Bucky’s fingers were pruned and every single  muscle still ached, though not as badly as before. Loki had transformed back into his Aesir self, and Bucky tried not to think about how it felt to be briefly pressed against the god’s bare chest when Loki pulled him out. Loki’s pants shimmered and changed back to the usual leathers, and he pulled on his tunic and boots. Then he waved a glowing hand over Bucky, and suddenly Bucky was dry, as promised. When they reached the paddock again, W’Kabi bade them farewell and walked away, but Okoye stopped them before they left.

            “I have something for you.” She lifted a saddle from the ground. “This was made for training the baby rhinos, to get them used to the saddle. It ought to fit Einar. If he does not mind?” She raised an eyebrow at the horse and then at Loki.

            Because Bucky was leaning against Einar’s shoulders (his legs were no where near recovered) he was able to hear the horse’s response.

            _Yes, yes, I want a saddle for Hurt-Friend Bucky. Prince-Friend Loki, tell her I want one. I do not want Hurt-Friend Bucky to be hurt more riding me._

            As Loki answered in the affirmative and began helping Okoye get the saddle onto Einar’s back properly, Bucky let his head rest on the horse’s shoulder.

            “Not your fault, Einar.” He mumbled. Loki shot a thankful smile at him.

            _I should not have made you ride bareback. I so wanted a rider to face down the rhinos with, I forgot that humans need special things to ride. I hurt you more, Hurt-Friend Bucky._

            “Nah,” Bucky said. “It was your Prince-Friend Loki making some mischief, is all. And I ain’t hurt. Just an ache. Like you get sometimes if you work too hard. No big deal.”

            Einar did not think in a clear language again, but sent feelings of _warmlovetrust_ into Bucky’s head, and he smiled.

            “And can you talk to horses as well now, Barnes?” Okoye asked, stepping away from the now fixed saddle.

            “Only when I’m touching him. And I think Loki has to like… let it happen or something. I don’t know, I don’t get this magic stuff. But Shuri sure was excited about it.”

            “I am sure she was. Now, a final gift to send you on your way.” She handed Loki a heavy looking bag. “Watermelons. Only a few, but I am sure your friend will enjoy.”

            Einar let out a happy whinny.

            “When we get home, Einar.” Loki admonished, his tone almost fatherly. He looked at Bucky.

            “It’s a long walk. I think you’ll find the saddle easier- You can hold on to the horn.”

            “Sure, might as well.” Bucky sighed, and pulled himself on to the saddle. It was certainly easier than mounting bareback, but his thighs were already crying out in protest as he clenched them around Einar appropriately. They thanked Okoye and began the long walk home.

            “I was always going to tend to your aches,” Loki said from where he walked alongside Einar. “I would not leave you in such pain.”

            “Yeah, I didn’t think you were bein’ mean or anything.” Bucky said amicably, his thoughts now occupied with the many ways Loki could tend to his aches. Einar let out that wheezing noise that Bucky had now identified as laughter, and he forced himself to reign in his thoughts and hope that Loki hadn’t picked up on whatever Einar had.

            When they returned to their little farmhouse the sun had set. Loki sent Bucky inside, telling him to wait on the couch, and went to rub Einar down. He took one of the lemons from the bag as well, and Einar had whinnied in delight. When Loki returned, he was grinning.

            “Einar did not even say goodnight, he was so engrossed in his melon. Sleipnir was like that.” Loki said fondly.

            “Who’s Sleipnir?” Bucky rolled his neck along the couch so he could face Loki with minimal movement. Loki froze for a moment, and Bucky could see this was going to be one of those moments where Loki was going to deliberately piss him off to change the subject, and he did not have the energy for that. “You don’t have to answer that. It’s fine. I do need you to come over here and peel me off this couch though, because I don’t think I can move.”

            Loki stayed still for a moment longer, then sighed and walked forward, tugging Bucky so he was laying on his stomach on the couch.

            “Uhhh…”

            “Just relax.” Loki said, kneeling next to Bucky, well in his line of sight. “I will not harm you, or make mischief here at this moment.”

            “Yeah, I know. I, uh, I trust you.” Bucky said, watching as glowing hands came up to rest gently on his neck. He thought to himself that were it not for his oath, Loki could snap his neck very easily. He’s pretty sure that Loki has snapped some necks in the past. He knew he had, as the Soldier _DO NOT THINK ABOUT HOWARD AND MARIA_. And yet, Bucky thought, that even without the oath Loki wouldn’t hurt him. He smiled a little and checked Loki’s face, as his hands hadn’t moved or done anything yet. Loki was staring at  him, eyes wide with wonder.

            “You really mean that, don’t you?” He asked softly.

            “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. So get with the magic, huh?” He tries to give an encouraging smile. What with Loki’s reputation being what it was, he doubted many people were willing to say that they trusted the God of Mischief. Bucky knew what that was like, to not be trusted. Sam Wilson did not trust him, he knew, even if Steve did. Loki nodded shakily, and then sent his magic into Bucky, and it took everything not to moan. It was like a massage, but better. Somehow more intense and yet more relaxing. Loki moved from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing gently even as his magic burrowed into the deeper muscles, loosening them from the knots they’d been worked into. Loki worked in to his back, tracing lines of magic and clever thumbs between Bucky’s shoulder blades, right on the spot that always ached as a result of being a bit lopsided, limbs wise. Slowly, steadily, the god worked his way down Bucky’s back and Bucky was torn between wishing he’d taken off his shirt to better feel what was happening to him and wanting to run away, because nothing felt this good anymore.

            “He was my son.” Loki said suddenly. Bucky’s eyes snapped open and he tried to see Loki’s face, but Loki was down by his hips now, healing and massaging, and he could only see a sliver of the god’s face behind the curtain of black curls.

            “Sleipnir. You asked who he was. He was my son. He was very much like Einar.”

            Bucky took a deep breath. He knew that this was something huge, he didn’t want to mess it up.

            “Well, Einar’s pretty great.” He said cautiously. “So that says a lot. I’m, um, sorry he’s not with you. I bet I’d have liked meeting him.”

            Loki let out a chuckle and passed his hands _right over Bucky’s ass_. Bucky almost passed out and how was he supposed to have this conversation with Loki’s _hands on his ass_ but this was the situation he was in. He groaned, half in frustration and half in pleasure as Loki sent his magic into his glutes, releasing the pain from riding Einar bareback (and with the saddle- it had been easier but still involved a lot of bouncing).

            “I’m sure you would have. He had eight legs, it would have, ah, ‘blown your mind,’ as the young Princess Shuri says.”

            “He had eight—Like a spider?” Bucky asked incredulously.

            “He was a horse- or at least, that was most comfortable with. And he had eight legs. And no, I did not plan for that.” Loki sighed as he moved down to Bucky’s thighs. He started with the thigh nearest to him, and when his thumbs pressed into the muscle Bucky could not contain the noise he made. His cheeks flushed, and he could practically _hear_ Loki smirking.

            “My, my, Sargant Barnes, and I didn’t even take your clothes off.”

            “Shut up, they’re tight, alright? Tell me more about him.”

            “I can hardly do both.” Loki dragged his thumbs down the thigh, his fingers rubbing at the sides as green sparks danced up and down his legs. Bucky swatted in Loki’s direction with his now-pain-free arm.

            “You know what I mean.”

            “I do. I’m not sure what else you’d want to know. The story of how he came to be… well, it’s funny to some, but I do not much care to tell the tale. But I carried him, I birthed him—”

            “You _birthed_ him?” Bucky exclaimed, unable to help himself. When Loki’s hands paused he scrambled. “I mean, I’m not judging or anything, I just didn’t know you could do that. Um, Shuri’s been teaching me about how now people who don’t feel like the gender they were born with—sorry, assigned at birth, she said, they can live how they feel like and get operations to transition, and I think it’s swell for them. Better that than being miserable in your own body, right? But it didn’t used to be like that back, back when I was myself. In the 40s. So I forget and assume sometimes, I shouldn’t have—”

                “Bucky.” Loki’s voice cut him off, the mage’s hands beginning to move again, down at Bucky’s calf now. “It is fine. I admit I was not sure of how your realm views my fluidity, but to be clear—I am a man. At least right now. When I am not, I will let you know.”

                “So, um, it changes for you?”

                “I am the God of Mischief, and of Chaos. Would you expect anything less? At any rate, I am fortunate enough to be able to change my body to suit my gender, when I so choose. So yes, I birthed Sleipnir. Thor was there, he could tell you. He was born as a horse with eight legs, and he took to running straight away. It’s why I named him as I did—Sleipnir, it means ‘slippery’. I loved him, and Thor was amused by him. He always wanted me to watch him run. And I did. Often I chased him through the halls, trying to stop him from making a mess in Mother’s rooms and gardens.” Loki was at Bucky’s feet rubbing them both. He let out another chuckle, but there was sadness in it. “Father—Odin, he did not approve. When Slep was big enough he said that he’d take him as his own horse. I… I did not want to let him go. He was young, and he was mine, and he was no warrior. But Odin insisted that it was a great honor, and that after a few decades no one would remember the scandal of my birthing him, and Sleipnir would be known as a great war horse.”

                “It went south, huh?”

                “Yes. Thor and I had to sneak into the royal stables to see him, give him treats. He should have been free to roam where he willed, but I could not defy Odin. At the time… I wanted his approval so badly. I lived my life in Thor’s shadow, I wanted Odin to see that I could make sacrifices for Asgard, keep a cool head. I wanted to be _worthy_.” Loki dug his fingers into Bucky’s other leg particularly hard. “I should have been a better father, and cared less for Odin’s opinions. He certainly never cared for mine. But I was a fool, and eventually there came a battle on Alfheim that Odin was determined to see through himself. He took Sleipnir—he took my boy onto that battlefield, and though Asgard triumphed, Slep was badly wounded. And the medics, they tended to the soldiers before the horses, of course, the _proper_ Asgardians. My son took his last breath in the Bifrost. Heimdall had sent for me, but I was too late to be there for him. Only Mother even tried to understand my grief.” Loki was making his way up to Bucky’s other thigh, but Bucky was too engrossed in this story now to focus on the massage he was receiving. His fist was clenched at his side at the injustice he was hearing. Loki fell silent for a moment and Bucky wondered if he would say anything more, or if he would simply finish what he was doing and walk away. But Loki continued.

                “Thor, of course, meant well, but his idea of comfort was to tell me that Sleipnir had died in glorious battle and would surely feast in Valhalla with Narfi.” Loki snorted. “At the time, I’d have preferred a cowardly son who was still at my side than one who’d been worthy of Valhalla. Now, with everyone gone, and having met the goddess of death… I do hope it is true.” Loki patted Bucky’s bum, like that was something people just did. “You can get up.”

                Loki stood, and Bucky swung himself to his feet with ease. Loki’s hands were still glowing, and they passed over Bucky’s front without touching. Green sparks jumped across his body, infusing him with the same healing magic.

                “Was that… you didn’t have to touch me before.” Bucky said. “Not that it wasn’t awesome, but you didn’t have to.”

                “No, I suppose I didn’t.” Loki smiled sadly at him. “I have not spoken about Sleipnir in nearly 100 years. Thank you, Bucky.” He went to turn away, but quickly reached out to grab his hand.

                “Hey.” Loki turned back to him. “Thank you for trusting me with him. I’m sorry you lost him. And… if Odin wasn’t dead already I’d go Soldier on his ass. You’re blaming yourself, and maybe, yeah, you could have been a better dad. I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But I know you loved your kid, no matter how you got him, and your father knew that too. And it doesn’t seem like he gave a shit about you or him, so if anyone needed to be a better father…”

                “Odin was not my father.” Loki said, but his eyes were shining.

                “Then why do you call yourself ‘Odinson’?” Bucky asked, still holding Loki’s hand. For a moment Loki was quiet, but then he sighed.

                “Because… Because ‘Odinson’ means ‘Thor’s brother.’”

                Bucky thought for a second about Steve, and why he called himself Bucky. Then he nodded, let go of Loki’s hand, and threw his arm around his shoulders, tugging him close for a hug. Pressed chest to chest, he felt Loki stiffen and then relax into his embrace.

                “Yeah.” He whispered into Loki’s ear, resting his head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I planned the massage, I did NOT plan the Sleipnir talk. And the end result was apparently a semi-angsty conversation occurring while Loki's hands were on Bucky's ass.  
> Next chapter, we'll check in briefly with how the negotiations are going, and the boys will be getting a visit from Steve. I wonder what think of it all? See you then!


	7. Routines and Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there might just be something there between Bucky and Loki, and Steve is as good a friend as he's ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here this is! Probably has typos because I am very tired. All errors are my own and I will eventually clean it up. Thanks as always to Slicey for making Einar a happy horse.

              When Steve was able to get away from the UN for a breather from the negotiations for the Asgardian refugees, he took it. He was out of inspiring speeches to give, but at the very least the Asgardians had been allowed to come down in groups of 100 at a time to roam the Avenger’s compound for a few days, and they’d been able to get the ship in proper orbit where they could regularly send fresh food and other supplies. Tony had been more than generous to the Asgardians, and had been civil with Steve and Sam, if not friendly. And then there was Clint, who’d come in when called, as he always did, but had gotten particularly cagey once he’d heard about Loki. The whole thing was full of tension.

                And so when everyone had agreed he’d burnt out and all but booted him from the building, he asked only for the use of a quinjet- Tony’s were still the fastest in the land, and he preferred a 6 hour flight over an 18 hour one any day of the week. Tony’s face had twitched—clearly he knew where Steve was going, and clearly he still had mixed feelings about that. Still, after one look at Thor’s grinning face, Tony’d sighed in resignation and given Steve the start code for a model located at the tower.

                When Steve touched down in Wakanda, he was greeted by T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri, which was the usual. He let T’Challa know how the situation was going, which the king took into consideration. He’d been wary of interfering in the summit when he was giving two criminals asylum, and so he’d stayed in Wakanda, though asked for frequent updates. Shuri, as always, updated him on Bucky’s condition. Not perfect, but improving—again, the norm, but it always gave Steve a little bounce in his step to know that every day was a day closer to Bucky being free of the triggers that Hydra had implanted in him.

                “He is doing even better now, with Loki around. They are good for each other. And Loki has allowed me to study his magic! Did you know he is able to communicate with any creature, Captain Rogers? I’ve seen him speak to his horse—they finally named him, his name is Einar now—and then he _transformed_ into a horse. It was fascinating, it happened on the cellular level! It was not an illusion; he showed me how to see behind those with my instruments.”

                “They’re getting along then? Loki hasn’t tried anything?” Steve asked.

                “Well…” Shuri began, but T’Challa cut her off.

                “The most he has done is anger W’Kabi, but it seems things were soon smoothed over. Not that I did not hear about it for a good long while.” T’Challa gave a shrug and a smile. “But W’Kabi’s temper has always been easily aroused.”

                “My love’s temper vanished quickly, when he witnessed Loki’s shape shifting. The necessary apologies were made for their slights, and Loki has accompanied Sargent Barnes to the paddock twice now, to get some watermelons and a bridle for Einar. W’Kabi does not like that Loki can speak to our Rhinos, nor that he can understand us no matter what tongue we speak in. But Barnes and the Trickster seem to be good friends.” Okoye said from where she walked just to the right of her king.

                “ _Very_ good friends.” Shuri said with a giggle. Steve frowned.

                “Alright, what’s funny?”

                “Nothing, Captain. You will see when you visit. Bucky will be happy to see you, and you can have a proper introduction to Einar!”

                “To the horse?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow at the grinning princess.

                “Oh, yes. If you are touching him and Loki facilitates, Einar thinks very clearly. Some of it is just… feeling, but I’ve heard complete sentences. Almost like a human! I asked if I could scan Einar’s brain with Loki’s magic keeping open a channel for communication, but he wasn’t fond of the idea. Einar, that is. Loki promised yesterday to try to talk him into it. Imagine the greater understanding we could have of the creatures around us!”

                Shuri continued to talk a mile a minute the whole way to the trolley which led to the farm lands. T’Challa occasionally attempted to get a word in edgewise, but was usually steamrolled over by his younger sister. Eventually he tossed up his hands and walked away to his kingly duty, Okoye flashing a mischievous grin before following him. Shuri left Steve at the trolley, citing lab work she had to finish. Steve thought idly that if Tony ever met Shuri, he’d want to adopt her, right along with the Spider Kid from Queens he’d brought around for the airport fight.

                Steve tried hard not to dwell on that fight too much. He knew in his heart that he’d done the best he could—there’d been no time to convince the other’s of Bucky’s innocence or of the danger waiting in Siberia. If there’d been more time, he thought, he could have talked it out with Tony.

                But then had come the bunker. And the revelation about Howard and his wife, Tony’s parents. And everything that ensued. Neither of them had been thinking with their brains at that moment, but later on it had shaken Steve to his core that had Tony still needed the arc reactor in his chest to live… he could have died. It was something that he’d have loved to talk out with Bucky, but at the time Bucky’s best bet had been going back into cryo. After he’d become stable enough to be out of the ice, Steve hadn’t brought it up, for fear of upsetting his friend or setting him back. Steve hopped from the trolley and made quick strides across the farmland. He was long overdue for a visit with his best friend.

                In the two weeks since Loki had told Sleipnir’s story for the first time in a century, things had… settled, around the farm, for lack of a better term. Loki and Bucky had fallen into a kind of rhythm. They’d wake up, eat breakfast (complete with Breakfast Soup), then go tend to Einar. They’d spend a good portion of their day with the horse, and for an hour or two each day Bucky would climb into the saddle. Loki’d fashioned reins and a bridle he called a hackamore to help Bucky ride more easily. Einar had taken them without offense, thanking Loki for not giving him a bit. As it turned out, Bucky barely used the reins after their first few lessons, where Einar and Loki both said they wanted him to learn how to ride properly, in case he should ever find himself on a horse that he was unfamiliar with or could not communicate with.

                Sometimes, Loki would transform into a horse and ride beside them, other times he’d laugh and cast illusions. They were harmless enough, and startled Bucky more than they did Einar. However, it had led to Einar referring to Loki as his “Tricksy Friend Loki” rather than “Prince Friend Loki,” which Loki had pouted about until Bucky allowed one of the illusions to ‘startle him’ into nearly tumbling off Einar’s back. Loki’d rushed to save him from a broken neck, but then he’d righted himself easily on his own, with a quick crunch of his stomach and a grip on the saddle horn (Einar had stayed steady for him, probably catching on to his plan). He’d turned to Loki, who’d drawn up short, and thrown him a carefree wink.

                “Being tricksy isn’t so bad, now, is it?” he’d tease, reveling in his victory over the God of Mischief. Loki had laughed and embraced Einar’s new name for him after that.

                At night, they talked. They danced around the difficult topics, but bit by bit learned more about each other. Loki learned that Bucky’s mother had died when he was 17, not long after Steve’s, and that the two had shared an apartment after (though it had taken a lot of convincing to get around Steve’s pride). Bucky learned that Loki hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to his mother, nor been allowed to grieve her with the rest of Asgard. But he’d gotten his revenge on the monster that killed her, Loki said, as though that made up for it all. Bucky knew it didn’t. On nights when neither could sleep, they’d sit and watch movies, not saying a word, their shoulders just barely touching. Sometimes, when the nightmares had been particularly bad, Loki would lean more firmly into Bucky, and would use his magic to make the voices coming from the tv sound funny, or even change the images entirely until Bucky laughed and let his head touch Loki’s gently. Sometimes Loki would pull away after that, with an excuse or even a biting remark. Sometimes he’d stay, holding himself so still Bucky thought he’d transformed himself into a statue. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to how Loki would react, but then, he was the God of Chaos. If he was forever changing, then Bucky elected to stay steady, and balance him out. It was good. It worked. Or at the very least, Loki stuck around.

                The afternoon that Steve visited, Loki and Bucky had just finished rubbing Einar down. Bucky’d fed him a sugar cube to go with his dinner of grass and hay, and now they were off for their own supper.

                “Look, I know Einar likes a rider. I like riding him. My only question is—”

                “Don’t even say it.” Loki warned, though he was fighting a grin.

                “I’m saying it. Why don’t we put a saddle on you? Einar seemed in favor of it.” Bucky gave Loki’s shoulder a gentle push.

                “Well, horses have their sensibilities, you know. But I assure you, Bucky Barnes,” and there was that shark-like grin, “that while Einar is a gentle horse, easy to ride, I’m afraid you’d find me more difficult to mount.”

                “Oh yeah?” Bucky fought back a blush, trying to rein in his brain. “Well, if I was the kind of guy who backed away from challenges, I wouldn’t have signed up for the war. I think I could take you on.”

                “Could you?” Loki swung in front of Bucky in one graceful movement, walking backwards so he could talk to him face to face. “I am a Prince bred for war. That does not change with my body. Could you ride a Prince, Bucky?” He stopped short, leaning close, and suddenly Bucky could barely breathe, because Loki’s green eyes were right there, and his lips were teased up into a challenging smirk that Bucky honest to anything wanted to kiss away, wanted to take those lips with his own and have them soften beneath him. He bit his own lip instead, breathing in through his nose.

                “Well, Bucky? Are you certain you want to take a ride with me?” Loki’s eyes danced over Bucky’s face, straying for a moment to the bitten lip, and the world seemed to shrink to just them and the inches of space between them.

                “Well, I—”

                “Buck, you here?” The world expanded again, and Bucky looked over Loki’s shoulder to see Steve approaching the house. He let out a breath, exchanged a last glance with his roommate, then stepped around him. Ever the hero, Steve had arrived just in time to stop him from doing something crazy.

                “Yeah, punk, we’re over here.” He called back, jogging to meet Steve’s enthusiastic hug. Behind him, Loki followed at a more sedate pace, the slightly furrowed brow being the only thing to give away any annoyance he may have had about their day being interrupted unexpectedly. “How’s it going out there in the world?”

                “It’s going. Tony and me are working with Thor to get the Asgardians full refugee rights. The others too. It’s a fight and a half though.” Steve chuckled and shrugged. “I ran out of inspiring speeches, so I came to visit, see how things are going.”

                “ _You_ ran out of speeches?” Bucky laughed. He turned to Loki when he drew up even with them. “Ya here that? Captain America ran out of speeches.”

                “Indeed? And here I thought those were your specialty. How does my brother fare? If your patience is at an end, I am doubly worried for his.”

                “Ah, no, he’s okay actually.” Steve shifted awkwardly, looking between his former enemy and his closest friend. “We’ve got the Asgardians coming down in groups of a hundred for a few days at a time, and we’re sending up supplies and stuff. He’s gotten frustrated a few times, but we got this system going where he’ll tag out with Heimdall for a bit, or sometimes Bruce. He and Tony are making the science arguments, and Tony’s lawyers are making the legal arguments. Thor’s mostly vouching for character and signing things.”

                “Is he reading them before he signs them?” Loki asked. Steve frowned at him in response.

                “Of course, why wouldn’t he. You know, he talks about you all the time.”

                “Not so much to the World Council, I hope.”

                “No, just to us. And he’s always got something good to say, more or less. You could at least do him the decency of not insulting his intelligence. He’s in a hard position right now, and I don’t see you helping.” Before Bucky could say anything—literally anything—to diffuse what he knew was going to be an explosive situation, Loki had drawn himself up to his full height, and any warmth that had been on his face earlier disappeared.

                “Not helping, am I? Did I not pledge upon my troth before you and the entire Royal Court of Wakanda to harm no human? Did you not watch me place my very essence on the line for the good of Asgard? Perhaps my brother did not tell you, Captain, but it was I who arrived at the Bifrost bridge with a ship large enough to carry our people. It was I who set loose Surtur’s flames, who rescued that damned cube from the vault and then passed on my best hope of salvation to my brother. It was I who composed Thor’s opening address and coached him on talking points before he brought me here. And I have stayed here, perfectly well behaved, doing party tricks for the Princess and making peace with your precious friend. And here you have ‘run out of speeches.’” Loki scoffed, and Bucky bit down his immediate reaction to Loki’s dismissal of Shuri and himself. _He’s poking sticks,_ Bucky told himself.

                “Yeah, well, Thor’s job would be easier if we could trust you. You expect me to believe you didn’t leave yourself some kinda loophole? That you couldn’t take the Tesseract right back if you wanted to, open another portal?”

                “And where, precisely, would you expect me to go, Captain?” Loki’s laugh was quiet and had something in it that Bucky didn’t like. A note of madness. “Asgard is destroyed.”

                “That’s only one realm out of nine. You could go anywhere, change into someone else’s father—yeah, Thor told us about that—and sit around getting fed grapes. Maybe you could change into that Titan Thor talked about, make a—” Steve was cut off by a dagger flying past his ear and burying itself into the wall of the house behind him.

                “Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Bucky got between them. “From both of you.” He gave Steve a stern look that he also turned on Loki. “No knives.”

                “I was hardly going to harm him. Incapable of doing so, in fact.” Loki’s entire body was stiff, his jaw and fists clenched. Standing as close as he was, Bucky could literally feel the temperature dropping. He needed to smooth this over before it got worse—He wasn’t sure if being very angry would cause Loki to turn blue, but he knew it couldn’t happen in front of Steve. Loki was too ashamed of it, for whatever reason.

                “Look, Loki is here because that’s what’s best for his people, and he isn’t a bad guy.” Bucky said to Steve. “So quit picking fights, if you’re spoilin’ for one we can see about that later. And you,” he turned to Loki. “Calm down, huh? Let’s go eat, I think it’s the last night we can cook those steaks before they start to turn.” Loki scowled. “Come on, I know how to make ‘em good and juicy.” He coaxed.

                “Buck’s right. I won’t say another word about it, okay? I shouldn’t have said it to begin with.”

                “No.” Loki said, drawing further into himself. There was that sadness again, that sometimes hid behind all of Loki’s confidence. “You should have. You’re quite right, Captain. I could leave if I so chose. I did leave a backdoor in my oath. But I have made use of neither, and I do not intend to, unless under some dire circumstance. Thor and his people deserve better than that of me, for the trouble I have caused of late. I will be in later, I think. In the hopes of not, ah, poking sticks.” Loki said to Bucky. Bucky gave him a little smile and clapped his shoulder.

                “Well, don’t wait too long. You don’t want it to overcook, and cold steak is for the birds.”

                “Is it?” Loki smiled, and it was more real this time. “I’m sure I will make that work.” And with a flash of green light, in Loki’s place was a large raven, who cawed once and took off.

                “Umm… Buck? Was that…?” Steve watched the Raven fly off in wonder.

                “Yeah. He does that a lot. Hadn’t seen the bird before though. He’ll probably spend some time with Einar and then come back. Let’s go.”

                “The talking horse?” Steve asked as they walked into the house and Bucky began bustling around the kitchen.

                “Our horse. He’s a real stand up kind of guy, Einar. Maybe you can introduce yourself tomorrow.” Bucky pulled the steaks out of the icebox. “What, are ya gonna stand there like a bum? Get the pans going, come on.”

                “I thought I wasn’t allowed to cook.”

                “You’re not. Manual labor is good for your soul, though.” The two friends grinned at each other and set to work.

                “So, you and Loki, you’re friends now?” Steve asked casually as he turned on the stove and got the pans on the appropriate burners.

                “Yeah. Look, I know you had your reservations, and I get why, but… he’s not a bad guy. He didn’t mean what he said about Shuri, he loves showing off for her. Last time she was here, after she was done with me the two of them were at it for hours, doing magic science or something.” Bucky shooed Steve away from the food, greasing the grill pan and sprinkling salt and pepper on each steak while Steve set the table.

                “Add a third place, will ya, Stevie? I’ll find something to use for a third chair.”

                “You think he’ll come back?”

                “Yeah, he will. Anyway, you’re staying a couple days, right? He’s gonna be around, Steve.” Bucky turned to face his friend, letting the steaks sizzle. “Loki has this… instinct to poke at things. He can’t help it sometimes. But he doesn’t mean any harm, not really. Just a little mischief here and there. It’s part of who he is.”

                “He doesn’t mess with you?” Steve asked protectively. Bucky turned to flip the steaks while he answered.

                “Nah, he doesn’t. Well, I mean there’s the illusions sometimes, and I’m pretty sure him and Einar make fun of me when I’m not listening, but it’s harmless fun. No different from you shorting my sheets or me setting you up on those blind dates. Look, you brought him here because you thought he deserved another chance. Like me. And that’s what he’s getting.” Bucky took two steaks off the grill pan, leaving the third on a few moments longer. “Just don’t go picking fights with him okay? He hasn’t had it easy. And maybe don’t mention that Titan thing? He doesn’t talk about it.”

                “He mentioned it to you?” Steve asked, helping Bucky carry the plates to the table.

                “Not directly. But I can make a few connections.” Bucky sat down across from his friend. “Just try and get along? Get to know him.”

                “Oh no.” Steve said looking at Bucky with wide eyes.

                “Oh no, what?”

                “You _like_ him.” Steve leaned across the table, forcing Bucky to look him in the face. “You _really_ like him.”

                “I just said, he’s my friend.” Bucky said, but the blush was climbing up his cheeks. Damn Steve for knowing him so well.

                “Like Jack Corner was your friend? ‘Get to know him,’ you said, and then two weeks later he was _living with us_ until he got drafted.” Steve’s eyes were still wide. He’d kept Bucky’s secret back in the 40s, keeping their couch made up as a bed at all times so Jack and Bucky could pretend they slept in separate rooms when company came over. Jack had been tall and dark, with a quick smile and a sarcastic streak a mile wide. He hadn’t been in Europe during the war, fighting in the Pacific theater. He hadn’t made it out.

                “Steve…” Bucky sighed, hand over his eyes.

                “You can tell me, Buck, you know that.” Steve said earnestly.

                “He’s… attractive, okay? And he’s a good guy. And there’s some moments where, yeah, I want something like that. And I think it’s the same for him. But it’s all complicated, because he’s complicated, I’m only stable 90% of the time, and once you guys get everything settled for the Asgardians he’s probably gonna go help out his brother. I’m not trying to make either of our lives more complicated than it is.”

                “You won’t be here forever, Buck.” Steve said, starting to eat his steak- he preferred it well done, unlike Bucky who liked it to bleed like it was still alive. “You know, if me and Tony patch things up and we’re able to amend the Accords to something more reasonable… who knows? You could come live in the compound. Be an Avenger.”

                “Yeah, maybe.” Bucky said, unable to conjure much enthusiasm at the thought. Steve might be able to make his amends with Tony Stark, but Bucky doubted he’d be so easily forgiven. He looked up at the sound of pecking at the window. Loki was there, in raven form, tapping at the glass. Bucky balled up his napkin and threw it in Loki’s direction.

                “Use the door!” He called, confident that Loki would understand. In a flash of green light, Loki appeared in his Aesir form right next to Steve, who startled nearly out of his chair.

                “Doors are for peasants.” Loki sniffed. He looked at the spot that had been set for him. “We appear to have a shortage of chairs.

                “Oh, I can grab the one in my room, I got to talking with—” Bucky cut himself off at Loki’s smirk and his eyes widened. “Don’t do it.”

                “Cold steak is for the birds, you said. No fuss now.” Loki transformed back into a raven and settled before his place on top of the table.

                “No, don’t… dammit, Loki.” Bucky slumped in his chair as Loki took the steak in his beak and started to tear a strip off the bone. Steve stared at Loki, then at Bucky, who looked increasingly agitated, shielding his own plate from stray tailfeathers. “C’mon, please? It’s not sanitary, I don’t need feathers in my steak.”

                Loki-bird gobbled down the strip of steak, then cocked his head at Bucky.

                “Whatever you’re thinking right now, I swear I’ll get you back for it.” Bucky half-threatened. The raven tilted his head another way, then took off, circling the room before coming to a rest on top of Bucky’s head.

                “You’re kidding me, right?” Bucky said, deadpan. Steve, though, was laughing.

                “Your hair is a bit of a bird’s nest lately, pal.” Steve snickered.

                “See if I ever cook for you again, punk.” Bucky shook his head, but Loki refused to be dislodged. “I’m gonna tell Einar you’re being a dick.” He complained. “Move it, who even knows where your ass has been lately.”

                Finally Loki lifted himself off of Bucky’s head, transforming back into himself.

                “I resent your implication of uncleanliness. You know precisely where my ass has been all day.”

                “Yeah, sitting on a hay bale, and then who knows. Did you have a nice flight?”

                “I did. It’s a beautiful country from above.” Loki reached out a hand and summoned one of the couch pillows, hands glowing with magic until it had become a cushy chair. “Einar was impressed. He prefers me as a horse, naturally, but he does not seem to have much issue with birds. Even offered to share his dinner, but I found the thought of meat more appetizing.” He settled down to eat.

                “Loki.” Steve got the god’s attention. “I’m sorry for starting with you before. I know you’re concerned about your brother. It’s just… it’s been tense. I guess I was kind of spoiling for a fight. Start over?”

                “Well,” Loki considered as he cut his steak. “Considering that I did once throw a legion of aliens at you… I suppose I can forgive the transgression.” He gave a sly smile in Bucky’s direction, who rolled his eyes at Steve. “Truthfully, though, paperwork and politics have never been Thor’s area of expertise. He’d do well to have a second eye go over anything he signs. Usually that would be me, but… it is my brother’s wish that I stay here, and trust that he will send for me if he needs me. I do not mean to imply that Thor is unintelligent, only that he is a warrior. I was the diplomat.”

                “ _You_ were?” Steve asked, surprised.

                “Indeed I was. My skills as a wordsmith earned me the name ‘Silvertongue’ and I had much more patience for reading and learning the intricacies of the court and the laws of the realms than Thor did. When we were young, we planned that whichever of us did not ascend to the throne would be at the other’s right hand, because our skills complemented each other.”

                “So, what happened to that plan?” Steve asked. Bucky nudged him under the table with his foot, shaking his head.

                “Things changed.” Loki said simply, and did not say another word on the matter.

                When it came time to turn in, Loki started to leave the house.

                “Hey, where’re you going?” Bucky asked, grabbing Loki’s hand as he passed.

                “There is not a third bedroom, and the one I’ve been sleeping in clearly belongs to the Captain. I can share with Einar tonight.” Bucky frowned.

                “You don’t have to sleep in the shed, we’ll figure something—”

                “Actually, I just made up the couch.” Steve said from the living room, meeting Bucky’s eyes. As always, Bucky saw acceptance there. Nothing was going to happen, of course, it couldn’t, but he was glad to know that Steve support him if it did. “No need for anyone to go anywhere.”

                Loki shifted for a moment. His fingers spasmed in Bucky’s grasp, and somehow Bucky knew exactly what he was thinking. If Stevie took the couch, and one of them had a nightmare, they would not be able to meet for a glass of water and a dumb tv show without Steve seeing. Loki wasn’t comfortable with that. Bucky squeezed the god’s fingers, giving him a small smile that sometimes seemed to reassure him. Loki smiled back.

                “Captain Rogers.” He said, turning to face the man in question. “I will sleep on the couch. I am sure you will appreciate the trappings of your own room.”

                “I…” Steve paused, looking at them both, then smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right. I could use an actual mattress, thanks. Have a good night.” He walked by them and down the hall towards his room.

                “See you in the morning.” Bucky said as his friend passed, thanking God for Steve Rogers. He looked up at Loki’s face. “Hey.”

                Loki turned back towards him, finally dropping his hand.

                “You gonna be okay tonight?”

                “I am certain I will live.” Loki shrugged. “I’m not sure I will sleep, but—”

                “Do _not_ watch the rest of Sense8 without me.” Bucky warned.

                Loki gave him a sharky smile.

                When Steve emerged to make use of the facilities just before dawn, he found his best friend and the God of Mischief leaning against each other, fast asleep. On the screen, Netflix was asking if they were still watching Sense8.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's a little peek into Steve's headspace. Why does Loki have to piss off every one he meets before he can even start being friends with them? Also, our boys are making some progress. We just need someone to make a leap of faith... but leaps of faith aren't really in their repertoire, are they? Well, we'll see.  
> Also Sense8 was a good show. They like it.  
> If you have a moment, drop a review! Those make me happy. See ya next time!


	8. Chase the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gives his blessing, they all watch Star Wars, and Bucky learns what it means to chase the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endgame gave me a lot of feelings, and I'm doing my best to not let those feelings affect this fic, which is not compliant with anything after Ragnarok. But GOSH I have a lot of feelings.  
> Thanks as always to Slicey for keeping Einar happy and healthy.

                The morning had been interesting, to say the least. Bucky woke up as soon as the sun creeped in the windows, and gently nudged Loki awake too.

                “We have to figure out where we fell asleep.” He said, stretching.

                “You fell asleep first. I remember where we were.” Loki replied, not moving but instead watching as Bucky turned off the tv and rubbed at his neck, arching his back to rid himself of the typical post-couch cramps.

                “You didn’t keep watching, did you?” Bucky turned and glared suspiciously.

                “Might have done.” Loki smirked, then waved his hands in appeasement when Bucky made an outraged noise. “I finished out the episode before I dropped off, that’s all.”

                “You better not say anything.”

                “I would never.” Loki waved a hand to reset the couch as it was.

                “Oh good, you’re up. Bucky, where did you hide the percolator I got you?” Steve stood in the kitchen, sweaty from his morning run.

                “Don’t remember.” Bucky said amicably, moving past Steve and pulling out the small pot he used for coffee.

                “Bucky, c’mon, you _don’t have to_.” Steve nearly whined as Loki came into the kitchen as well.

                “Don’t be such a sissy, Rogers. I know how to make a good Breakfast Soup.” Bucky waved him off as he began boiling the water.

                “Do not forget to modify mine.” Loki said as he grabbed an orange and some Cheerios from the pantry.

                “Breakfast Soup? Is that what you’re calling that paint-peeler now?” Steve kept opening cabinets, looking in vain for the percolator. “Really, Bucky, where did you put it?”

                “Don’t remember, I told you.” Bucky was grinning. “Must be a glitch in my brain. Cereal okay with you today?”

                “Come on…” Steve heaved a sigh and grabbed a bowl and the milk, sitting across from Loki. “Does he force feed you direct attacks on your stomach lining too?”

                “If you refer to the breakfast soup, it has not been forced on me. With the proper modifications, I find it quite invigorating in the mornings.” Loki answered, raising an eyebrow at Steve’s melodramatics.

                “Did they have coffee on Asgard?”

                “No. On Asgard there was milk or mead for breakfast.” Loki explained. “Some juices as well, but mead was more common.”

                “Even for the children?” Steve sounded vaguely horrified.

                “Children get milk or diluted wines, typically, but yes.” Loki shrugged. “It does no harm that I can see. Remember, though we look similar, we are not human.”

                “Hey, Not Human, here’s your Soup.” Bucky placed a steaming cup in front of Loki, appropriately “modified.” Loki did not pause in his rhythm, taking it and drinking a swig.

                “An exemplary Breakfast Soup this morning.”

                “You know your stuff, Your Highness.” Bucky winked before he returned to the stove to pour out more.

                “Oh for the love of—Bucky, I swear, if you give me that swill—”

                “Shaddup and take it like a man, Stevie.” Bucky dropped a steaming cup next to Steve, and finally returned with one of his own, settling into the cushy chair that Loki had conjured last night.

                “Did I say you could sit in my chair?” Loki nudged Bucky’s leg. Bucky nudged back.

                “You’re sitting in mine.” Bucky gave his one armed shrug and poured cereal into his bowl, grinning with delight as the milk floated over and poured itself into the bowl as well. “I love magic.”

                “I can hardly blame you.” Loki smiled. Steve, meanwhile, had taken a sip of the coffee Bucky had provided him with, shuddered, and jumped from his seat.

                “Going somewhere, Stevie?” Bucky’s shit-eating grin was strangely mirrored by Loki, but while Bucky was looking at Steve, drinking his own coffee (or breakfast soup, whatever he was calling it now) in defiance of Steve’s disgust, Loki was staring at Bucky, his smile soft, seemingly enthralled by the teasing between the two super soldiers. Steve took this in, his brows twitching for a moment, but then went to the cabinets.

                “Look,” Steve said, addressing Bucky, “If you’re not gonna tell me where the percolator is, at least tell me where the filters are.”

                “What are filters?” Bucky asked, grin widening. Steve huffed and grabbed a second mug, a paper towel, and a glass that he filled with hot water. As he began to filter and water down the coffee, Bucky shook his head.

                “You see, Loki? Captain America, the world’s first superhero. Ruining his breakfast soup like a weenie ‘cuz he can’t take it straight. Ain’t that a shame?”

                “Scandalous, I’m sure.” Loki said. “How can we expect a man to fight for truth, justice, and the American way when he can’t even drink a proper Breakfast Soup?” Loki’s eyes twinkled, making Bucky laugh and Steve roll his eyes dramatically as he finally made his drink palatable with milk and sugar, discarding the coffee grounds he’d collected in his paper towel to the side.

                “You’re both maniacs.” He grumbled, sulking into his breakfast.

                “You know, I do believe that’s fair.”

                After breakfast, Steve was formerly introduced to Einar and given the title of “Bucky-Friend-Steve” by the horse. He watched in fascination as Loki and Bucky moved completely in sync, feeding Einar his breakfast, checking his legs for any swelling. Loki plaited Einar’s mane while Bucky affixed his bridle. The two easily god the horse saddled as well, Loki never giving Bucky more assistance than he strictly needed with his arm. It had only been three weeks, but they moved as though they’d lived together for years. Steve wondered if their relationship was as complicated as Bucky seemed to think.

                “Hey, that’s a good point.” Bucky’s voice broke Steve out of his reverie. “Hey punk, you ever get around to riding a horse?”

                “No?” Steve wasn’t sure where that… oh. “No.” He said more firmly.

                “Come now, Captain Rogers, you’re going to hurt his feelings.” Loki scolded, an arm tossed around Einar’s neck as though around the shoulders of a good friend.

                “Yeah, Stevie, Einar won’t let you fall. Don’t wuss out on us now, I rode for the first time without a saddle _or_ a bridle.”

                “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t like you, Einar.” Steve still felt weird about addressing a horse directly, but the mismatched eyes had intelligence behind them, and he’d heard the horse’s thoughts himself during their introduction. “It’s just… you know what, I don’t actually have an excuse, except that I don’t want to do something wrong.”

                “It is good for Einar to have a rider. Once a day if he can, for an hour or so. It’s an honor for a horse. And it helps him feel his own strength.” Loki explained.

                “If you’re nervous, Stevie, I’ll ride with you.” Bucky offered cheerfully.

                “Can he handle both of us?” Steve asked doubtfully.

                “No, no, I mean—you take that back, Einar, you know that’s not what I meant—there’s another horse I can ride. We can go side by side.” Bucky grinned and Einar let out a wheezing sound that was almost laughter, stomping one of his front hooves.

                “You’re making assumptions about the presence and willingness of other horses, Barnes.” Loki said, glaring half heartedly  

                “I’m making assumptions about which horse would perform better with a rider. I imagine it takes practice, skill, dedication to carry a rider with any kind of dignity, right Einar?” Bucky nudged the horse, who snickered in agreement. Loki frowned, glancing between the two of them. “But hey, if you can’t do it…”

                “Don’t presume to manipulate me, Bucky. It is I who is the wordsmith, not you.” Loki sounded amused.

                “Sorry, um, but is the other horse you’re talking about…” Steve interjected.

                “It’s Loki.” Bucky confirmed. “He’s a good looking horse, isn’t he, buddy?” Bucky turned his grin to the horse, who snuffled at his hair with his nose.

                “I do not wear a saddle and bridle. In any form.” Loki said, staring Bucky down. Bucky did not flinch.

                “That’s alright, we don’t even have a second one.” Bucky’s grin was pleasant. “Steve’s up for trying something new, aren’t you Stevie? Einar won’t be happy if you say no.”

                “Why do I feel like I don’t know what I’m agreeing to?” Steve asked even as he stepped forward and ran his hand down Einar’s neck, feeling the bridle and then the saddle.

                “Don’t worry about it, you were gonna do it anyway. You can’t walk away from a challenge.” Bucky showed Steve how to mount Einar, and let him get used to the feeling of riding as Einar walked out around the field at an easy pace. “And neither can you.” He said quietly to Loki, closing the space between them once Einar and Steve were getting to know each other.

                “I think it is you that is being challenged.” Loki breathed. “I told you yesterday, it is no easy feat to ride a Prince.”

                “I ain’t looking for easy.” Bucky said, reaching out to touch Loki’s arm. He loved how Loki would lean into every touch (on the occasion that he wasn’t being ornery), loved the flush in his cheeks when Bucky would touch him. Maybe he could never have Loki the way he wanted to, could never kiss him, never lay with him in bed. But he would steal every touch he could, and relish in the catch of Loki’s breath. “I’m looking for you.”

                Loki’s eyes searched his face, and Bucky could hear his shallow breath as he whetted his lips. Then the prince looked out to where Steve was riding with ever increasing confidence.

                “Well then, Bucky Barnes…” Loki returned his green eyes to Bucky’s blue ones. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.” And then with a flash of green light, Loki became the beautiful dappled grey horse, and knelt to accept Bucky onto his back. Bucky could scarcely believe what he was doing as he gripped Loki’s mane and slung a leg over his back. Then Loki rose, and Bucky stayed steady, gripping him tight with his thighs.

                _Not frightened already, are you my friend?_

                “Whaddya mean frightened?” Bucky adjusted his posture. Loki was slimmer than Einar. “Figure if I’m gonna ride a Prince, I better hold on tight.” In his head, he heard laughter.

                _Yes, you’d better._

                With that, Loki took off.

                This was nothing like riding Einar. Loki’s movements as a horse were smooth, but quick and powerful. Bucky could feel the muscles pumping beneath him as they cantered to meet Steve and Einar. He tried not to grip Loki’s mane too hard as they drew up even with them.

                “How’s it going, pal?” He asked, far more casually than he felt. Loki shuffled over, making him clench his thighs tighter to maintain his balance. From the way Steve blinked in surprise after Loki nudged him, Bucky assumed he was opening a link to allow the humans to talk to the horses. Well, the horse and the pagan alien god pretending to be a horse.

                _Bucky-Friend-Steve is very new. We must be gentle with him, Hurt-Friend-Bucky. But I want to run! Tricksy-Friend-Loki can we run! Want to runflygallop make sure they don’t fall!_

                “I guess I haven’t made much of an impression yet.” Steve said drily. “But Einar hasn’t let me fall off or anything. The saddle helps… you don’t have one though? How does that work?”

                _It work’s perfectly well. I do not take a saddle… and I do not take riders either. But who am I to deny a friendly challenge?_ Bucky was not sure he liked the sound of that.

                “It is a _friendly_ challenge. Look, Stevie, tighten your thighs, okay? You won’t hurt him, Einar’s tough. It’ll help when we run.”

                “We’re going to run?” Steve asked as Loki and Einar turned towards the other end of the field, standing even with each other.

                _I believe the appropriate term is race._

_YES! RunRaceChase the wind!_

                “Yeah, Steve.” Bucky braced himself for what he was sure would be one hell of an ache later. “We’re going to run. But remember, this is the best horse with a rider, so you don’t win if you drop us, alright?” He said, with less authority and more pleading than he’d intended.

                _I would never drop my friend!_

_Well, now you’ve offended him. Hold on, then… and let us chase the wind._

                Steve and Bucky both let out a shout as the horses took off towards the other side of the field, going from a trot to a canter quickly. Steve quickly got the hang of it, moving his body in sync with Einar’s and maintaining a steady grip on the reins and saddle horn both. Bucky, of course, had nothing but Loki’s mane to hold on to, and a prayer that the force of a gallop wouldn’t knock him clear off.

                _I like it when you pray to me._ Loki’s voice was silky in his head. _Bend low, and do not be afraid to tighten your grip. I told you—you must be bold to ride royalty._

                In the end, they called it a draw. While Loki was faster, Einar gave a smoother ride. It had been exhilarating to gallop across the field—Steve had been whooping with excitement as the race got faster, and while Loki had easily out paced Einar the first go around the field, he’d slowed up some to allow for a more even time. At some point it stopped being a contest and became simple play. Steve clearly had the time of his life, and Einar was delighted to have pleased his rider.

                Loki had been smug, not even vaguely apologetic about the aches in every single one of Bucky’s muscles now. Bucky didn’t mind that so much—he knew one sweep of Loki’s magic over him would cure him of the pain, and he didn’t doubt that Loki would provide it at some point. He suppressed a wince as he clambered down, even with Loki kneeling to make it easier.

                Einar had stuck his head straight into his water bucket after Steve dismounted, and Steve was laughing, running his hands through his windswept hair as he patted Einar’s shoulder.

                “That was great, thank you.” He said to the horse, then turned to Bucky. “You were right, he is a stand up guy.”

                “I know. And that stand up guy needs to be rubbed down when he’s done drinking. Just take off his saddle and bridle and rub him down with a towel. It’s like a massage.” Bucky winced as he took a step away from Loki. He could use a massage himself.

                “Sure thing—least I could do, huh, Einar?” Steve said cheerfully, going about removing the saddle when Einar indicated he was done drinking. “What about, uh...”

                There was a flash of green light, and the dappled grey horse had once again become Loki.

                “The benefit of magic, Captain—I can tend to myself.”

                “You know…” Steve began to rub Einar down. “You can call me Steve. Not Captain of anything right now, not really.”

                “I was under the impression that given names were reserved for friends.” Loki said cautiously.

                “You’re Bucky’s friend. And that means you’re my friend too.” Steve smiled over at Loki. “Getting to know you better will be on my to-do list now. Right up there with watching Star Wars.”

                This was more than acceptance. This was a blessing, from Steve, to be with Loki. The way Bucky _wanted_ to be with him. Bucky still wasn’t sure it was a good idea. It could only end in tears. But then… Bucky looked up and met Steve’s eyes. They didn’t need words. Peggy Carter hung behind Steve’s eyes like a ghost. Perhaps tears wasn’t the worst way something could end.

                They ended Steve’s stay marathoning the Star Wars movies after Loki had sent a quick wave of healing magic over Bucky to soothe his aches. Steve nudged Bucky and said that they could have been Luke and Han. Loki spent half of the movies rolling his eyes about the inaccuracies of space travel and the other half pretending he was not enjoying them. They passed popcorn around, and the three of them fell asleep on the couch, midway through The Force Awakens, legs a tangled mess. None of them had nightmares.

                Steve left late the next day, reinvigorated. He hugged Bucky tight, and, to Loki’s surprise, shook the God of Mischief’s hand warmly.

                “I’ll stop by again soon. I’d better head back to the U.N. and tag someone out. I may have a speech or two left in me after all.” And with that, he departed.

                Loki went back into the house, but Bucky stayed outside for a few more moments, watching Steve go. Steve usually stuck around for longer than two nights. Of course, the situation with the Asgardians needed attention, but Bucky couldn’t help but feel like he had on the days back in the 40s, where Steve would loudly announce that he was going to the library and scuttle out of the apartment, leaving Bucky and Jack Corner alone and in peace. He took a breath, shaking his head at the dot in the distance that was Steve. Punk was the same as ever, even with 75 years and a load of super soldier serum between then and now. He turned and went inside.

                Loki, to his surprise, was waiting in the kitchen, sitting on the damn table rather than on a chair or in his room.

                “Off the table, Loki.” He ordered. Loki grinned and made himself more comfortable where he was, drinking a glass of water.

                “I assure you, I’m perfectly clean.”

                “That’s not the point. Off, come on.” But Loki stayed put. Bucky sighed and walked over to him, ready to tug him off the table and play whatever game Loki was starting.

                “But I am comfortable here. And as you did not rub me down after riding me—”

                “You said you could take care of yourself!” Bucky said, outraged.

                “I did say that, for Steve’s benefit. And I can take care of myself. But as you are the one who insisted on my carrying you…” Loki shrugged. “I thought I’d offer you the chance to return the favor.”

                “Loki…” Bucky found himself standing between Loki’s legs at the table, his hand on his arm. But he could not seem to bring himself to tug Loki off the table, to walk away and say goodnight.

                “I did tell you, didn’t I… you must be bold, to ride a prince.” Loki’s lips were quirked up in that small, challenging smirk, and he was so close, so incredibly close.

                Be bold. Fine.

                In the next breath, Bucky bade farewell to his better senses and decided to do just that. He trailed his hand up Loki’s arm to the side of his neck, cupping his jaw. He forced his gaze from Loki’s lips to his eyes, saw the invitation there, and hesitated only a second more before finally, _finally_ pressing their lips together.

                Less than a second later, Loki began to kiss back. When Loki’s hands reached up to tangle in his hair, Bucky’s last coherent thought was that this must be what it felt like to chase the wind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many horse-related innuendos can I make, right? Anyway, this moment finally came, some 30000 words later (would you believe this was gonna be a 10k fic, originally? It should be smooth sailing from here... except what should be doesn't always work out to what IS, does it? Please leave a comment. Catch you on the flip side!


	9. Steps Forward and Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are never easy, Einar is a good friend, and the boys need to get a grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter I'm not sure I'm happy with. It's not the part of the story I've ever been particularly good at writing... but hey, here's some angst and some Einar to make it better.

               Bucky never thought he would be here. Standing in his home, kissing the literal god that was sitting on his kitchen table. Loki’s lips moved against his with a kind of desperation, his hands firm against the back of his skull, keeping them pressed together. A whimper came out of one of them, Bucky couldn’t be sure who, and he stepped closer, tracing where their lips met with his thumb, gasping into the kiss when one of Loki’s hands trailed from his head down to his waist, tugging him closer still with that deceptive strength, pressing their bodies together. Bucky came up for a breath of air, then dove right in again, kissing the corner of Loki’s lips, his jaw, the side of his long, slender neck, and rejoicing in the sounds the prince was making, the way Loki’s fingers spasmed at his hip and tightened in his hair.

                Bucky couldn’t decide what to do next, where he wanted to place his hands, what piece of alabaster skin he wanted to taste. It was overwhelming.

                _Be bold_ , he thought, and he took Loki’s mouth again. Suddenly he felt himself being lifted—literally lifted—by slender hands at his waist, felt himself get turned around until it was his ass pressing against the kitchen table, with Loki pressing down on him, chest to chest, tongues tangling together and he thought he might be in heaven, or Valhalla, or whatever there was out there when Loki easily maneuvered him so their groins were pressed together and holy shit he was hard, they were both so hard and it had been so long—

                Then, abruptly, Loki pulled away. It took a moment for Bucky to get his bearings, but when he did, he was blinking at Loki standing a good five feet away, breathing heavily, his eyes wide. Bucky’s heart sank—he knew that look. This was Loki in fight or flight mode. But he couldn’t let him just walk away, not now.

                “Loki?” His voice was rough, pushing through kiss swollen lips with ragged breath. Loki stayed silent for a moment, slender fingers tracing his own lips.

                “I don’t think I can do this with you.” The prince said at last. “I think… I think I might like you too much.”

                “Liking me is the general idea.” Bucky said cautiously, standing from the table. “At least, I hope it is. I like you.”

                “You don’t understand. This… I know I have been inviting this. I have been flirting, I have made no real secret of my desire for you these past weeks. And that you also desire me is… beyond my dreams. I am not a sentimental creature, Bucky. I’d thought you and I could tumble about between the sheets and have the pleasure of each other, and leave it there. But now… I am not certain that I could.” Loki folded his hands in front of him, studying the floor rather than looking Bucky in the eye. “I’ve made rather a mess of things, and you deserve better than to become entangled in it.”

                “I think I’m pretty entangled already.” Bucky said, frowning. “I wasn’t looking for a… what did you say? A tumble between the sheets and then to leave it. Whaddya take me for?”

                “I take you for a mortal man. A man that I admire, but a mortal nonetheless.” Loki looked up, his face hardened. “And I am a god. I’ve lived for centuries before you came into this world, and I will live on for centuries after you leave it. Your life is a breath, an eyeblink. You will grow old and grey, and I will not. You will fight with your Avenger friends—”

                “Who says I’m gonna be fighting with the Avengers? That’s Steve’s idea, not mine—”

                “And I will be elsewhere.” Loki overrode him. “I respect you, and I am fond of you, as much as one such as I can be fond of a human. But you humans, you see desire and take it for love, and then your little hearts break when it is not so. I have no desire to hurt you thusly.”

                Bucky gaped.

                “Don’t you think I should get a say in—”

                “I think it best if we retire to our separate rooms, Sargent Barnes. There will be no need to speak of this again.” Loki’s voice was firm, his stance rigid.

                “Loki—”

                “Sleep well.” With that Loki spun and walked quickly down the hall to his own room, leaving Bucky staring after him.

                Bucky stood in the kitchen alone for a long time, almost certain that Loki would come back out and trying very hard not to let his anger or his hurt get the better of him. He had to think this through logically. Loki admitted to wanting him. He’d been flirtatious, he’d openly challenged him to make a move… and sure, that could be just lust. Just a god wanting to get his rocks off with some convenient human. He was pretty sure that 90% of Greek myths, at least, went that way, and maybe it was the same for Norse gods. But then… Loki had shared so much with him. The loss of Sleipnir, Einar’s friendship… casual touches that he would lean into, jokes over Breakfast Soup. That was more. It had to be. Bucky scoffed to himself as he turned down towards his own room.

                Loki was so full of shit. _Be bold_ , he said, but when it came down to brass tacks he couldn’t look his own feelings in the eye. Right? There was something more there. Bucky couldn’t buy this ‘you’re only mortal’ crap. Loki’d barely been able to meet his eye. Shuri would call it “projecting” if he told her about it. Maybe he should tell her about it. Then again… Bucky shook his head and turned from his room. Instead heading out of the house again. He took long, agitated strides until he approached the shed where Einar usually slept. He and Loki had filled it with bales of hay and other such things Einar might want.

                “You awake, buddy?”

                Einar let out a small whinny, stepping forward into the moonlight. Bucky reached out and rested his hand across the horse’s cheek, then stepped forward to just hug him.

                “I know I can’t really talk to you without Loki here, but you understand me alright, don’t you?”

                Einar pricked his ears forward, nuzzling Bucky’s hair.

                “I guess that’s a yes.”

                Einar pulled back from Bucky, looking at him with mismatched eyes. Then he nudged Bucky backwards until he fell back onto a hay bale. The horse faced his friend and gave an encouraging snicker.

                “Shut up and talk, huh? Well, I’m afraid your Tricksy friend Loki and I have a few issues to work through.”

                Einar snorted, and Bucky would swear on his life that the little shit rolled his eyes.

                “Big surprise, right? Well, here’s what happened…”

                Loki was pacing in his room. How could he have been so foolish, to have encouraged Bucky so? How could he have pulled away? But he had to, he knew. There was no happy ending here, there never was. At the end of the day, Loki would be alone. That was how it worked. His sons, his wife, his mother… even Odin All-father, who he cursed himself for loving every day—they were all gone. Everyone that he loved was taken from him eventually, and to love a mortal? There was no chance. Mortals were capricious, fickle. One needed only to look at Thor and his lover, Jane. Had they not come to Asgard with a love story to write across the stars? Had Thor not willingly broken all of the All-Father’s laws to save her? Hadn’t Frigga died to save her, this human loved by her true born son? And yet, mere years later, they were separated. Thor said it had been mutual, but Loki had his doubts. A human’s lifespan was so short, that even the smallest stretches of time could seem like an eternity for them. Loki suspected that Jane had grown tired of waiting.

                The same would happen here, he was certain of it. The future was uncertain, but all Loki did know is that there would come a time when he would have to leave Earth, and he did not know for how long. The Mad Titan’s shadow hung over him still, and his reach was long. Loki could not hope to outrun him forever, but he could lead him on a merry chase far away from his people, from his brother. From Bucky.

                Bucky, who deserved so much better than what Loki could give him. Who shared his Breakfast Soup and his gentle touches, who trusted him, the God of Mischief, the Liesmith, the once-enemy of Earth, to lay hands on his most vulnerable places. Who was funny, and kind in a way that people seldom were to beings such as Loki, who was brave and strong and who _wanted_ him. And not just for a tumble between the sheets, apparently. But this could not be done. It would not be. Loki had more discipline than this. He threw himself violently down on the mattress. He was a Prince of Asgard. He was a god. He was a monster hiding in a pleasant skin.

                He laid down and threw an arm over his eyes, and tried hard not to think about the taste of Bucky’s lips… or the look in his eyes as Loki’d walked away.

                That could wait.

                By the time Bucky had finished talking it all out to Einar (who, as it turned out, was an excellent listener), it was well past midnight. Bucky vaguely considered just staying in the shed with his friend, exhausted emotionally and physically from his day, but Einar bent his head and nudged him until he was standing.

                “Guess I should go to bed, huh buddy?”

                Einar snickered and nuzzled Bucky’s hair, then moving behind him to nudge him forward out of the shed.

                “Yeah, okay, I get it. I’m going.” Bucky said around a yawn. To his surprise, Einar followed him out of the shed and kept pace with him as he walked towards the house. He smiled at the idea of being walked home by his friend, the horse, after a rough day. They came to the door.

                “Thanks, Einar. Here, hold on a second.” Bucky ducked inside to grab an apple out of the fruit bowl (it was always kept well stocked now, since Loki had apparently developed an affinity for oranges). He came back out and fed it to Einar, who took it gently in his teeth and then bowed his head to Bucky, his large, mismatched eyes filled with the trust and compassion that he’d become accustomed to, but seldom took the time to appreciate. Then Einar turned and walked back to the shed, already chomping on his treat. Bucky watched him go, noting with concern the limp that became more pronounced at night. He’d have to talk to Loki about giving Einar another magic boost. After he talked to Loki about everything else.

                Once inside, Bucky took a long look down the hall to Loki’s room. No light crept out from beneath the door, but Bucky doubted the prince was asleep. He could go in there right now… but no, best not. Best that they both had the night to calm down. They could talk in the morning. He turned towards his own room instead, and fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

                They did not talk in the morning. Bucky had risen at his usual time, made breakfast, made a pot of Breakfast Soup. Loki never emerged from his room. Fine. Bucky could be stubborn too. He made himself comfortable in the living room, stretched out on the couch facing the kitchen. Loki would have to come out eventually… then, with a flash of green light, the mug of coffee and the orange he’d left for his roommate disappeared. Huh. Maybe he didn’t have to come out, at least not for breakfast. But that was okay. The chief joy Loki and Bucky had of each other was usually a battle of wits. Bucky was no Trickster God, but he could be devious. And this was a game he was determined to win.

                “You’d better wash those dishes!” He called down in the direction of Loki’s room. Then he stepped into his shoes and walked out to the shed to start his day. It wasn’t a big house. Nor was it a large farm. They would sort this out.

                Bucky wasn’t really sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Loki... you can't avoid him forever, you know. Bucky was the Winter Soldier, he knows how to hunt people down. Probably won't post next week because I will be with family, so this was a little chapter to tide you over.


	10. Horse Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki plays the avoidance game, Bucky plays the patience game, Einar has had it with this nonsense, and there may be a Doctor Who reference in there somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I said no chapter this week but here I am posting a chapter this week. I wrote more than I thought I would. Hope you enjoy!

              Loki was stymied. Bucky Barnes was a devious human—indeed, that had been part of what attracted Loki to him. He was also incredibly stubborn, splitting his time between loitering about the kitchen or loitering about with Einar. He was trying to force a confrontation. Well, Loki would not have it. He could not look Bucky in the face and answer the questions he was sure to have. Bucky brought out an honest streak in him that he was quite sure had not even existed before he met the human. No matter what Loki told himself, in his heart he knew that given more than five minutes in Bucky’s presence, he would crumble, and he would let Bucky catch him, and they would both fall even deeper into the ditch Loki had dug for them. He could magic his food into the room, magic the dishes clean and into the rack in the living room… but it was exhausting. He refused to steal across the house while Bucky was with Einar like a thief in the night just to use the lavatory. Something had to be done.

                Well, Loki was nothing if not flexible. He opened his bedroom window and transformed into a raven, flying out and relishing in the wind between his feathers. He flew high into the sky, and let the wind carry him over the farmlands. He flew over the river where the rhinos were bathing, he swept past W’Kabi, who was whittling something at the side of the paddock. He flew further still, beating his wings as he came over the marketplace and flew down the streets of the great capital of Wakanda. He landed himself in Shuri’s laboratory, where she was bent over a set of kimoyo beads, working at them with tiny instruments.

                “Princess, we’ve a visitor.” One of Shuri’s assistants said lowly as he spotted Loki. Shuri looked up and smiled.

                “You are not one of our native birds. It’s a poor disguise Loki, if that is what you call it…” She teased.

Loki took off and dropped what Bucky would call “a present” on the assistant’s head, who squawked. Shuri seemed to bite back laughter and then sent her assistants off, asking for time alone with their “visitor.”

“You are a naughty bird. There was no need for that.” She scolded gently.

“Most would say I’m a naughty everything.” Loki said as he changed back into himself. “Besides, I’ve come to understand that in some places on Midgard, it is considered good luck to have bird droppings on your head. So really, I did her a favor.”

Shuri did burst out in laughter then, and gestured for Loki to sit as she went back to work on the beads.

“So what brings you here, Magic Man? I thought you were enjoying life on the farm with Bucky and Einar far too much to visit the city.”

“Far too much may be the operative phrase there.” Loki murmured, watching the teen’s fingers deftly maneuver the small instruments within the beads. “What are you working on today?”

“I am upgrading my brother’s beads for when he is away on a mission. I want to be able to tell his stress levels, so he cannot pretend to me that all is well when it is not. Which is precisely what you are doing.” She smartly laid down her tools and turned to face Loki in her chair, legs crossed and face expectant. “Well then?”

“I’m sure I do not know what you are talking about. Perhaps I simply wanted a change of scenery—I am used to a great deal more variety in my life.” Loki deflected. “I thought I might look over your readings of my magic. You yourself have pointed out that there is something measurable there, and I’d like to see what it is—to see what Midgard’s best minds are capable of.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Shuri said, but then she grinned. “I will show you my latest data on your magic, but first you must tell me why you did not bring Bucky with you.”

“He can’t fly.” Loki said shortly, and Shuri wisely backed off, showing him to her screens instead.

As it turned out, Shuri’s work was truly enthralling. She’d managed to capture with her instruments the exact way his magic moved, though she called it various kinds of energy. She had scans of him at rest, and scans of him performing magic, and she him the shift in energy, as it was measurable by her instruments. She was also close—dangerously close—to working out that the constant presence of magic/energy that surrounded him was not a result of him being a magical being or of the binding magic of his oath. Loki decided to take his leave when she started asking about sustained spells. Soon, Shuri, too, might discover what he was beneath the pretty skin he wore… but he’d rather deal wit one crisis at a time. He changed again, and flew towards home.

No.

Not home. The house he shared with Bucky was but temporary. Home was Asgard. Home was gone.

When Bucky reached the farmstead, a quick pass by the windows showed that Bucky was inside, preparing dinner for himself. Loki resolved to wait it out until he’d retired. He turned and flew across the field to wear Einar was pacing outside his shed, absently chewing on some of the tall grass that grew there. He alighted gently on his friend’s head.

_Tricksy-Friend-Loki._ Einar’s thoughts were not warm and inviting, as they usually were. Loki cocked his head.

_Does something trouble you, Einar? Are you in pain?_

_Some. You trouble me. You trouble Hurt-Friend-Bucky. He must not be more hurt._ Einar shook his head, causing Loki to flutter off. He landed on the ground as himself, frowning at Einar.

“I do not intend to cause him more hurt.”

_Tricksy. Lying._

“Einar, I am not lying.” Loki said, stung. He could not believe that Einar, who’d held him in high esteem practically since the moment they met, would accuse him thusly.

_Not to me._ Einar allowed. _But lies to Hurt-Friend-Bucky. And yourself. Not very Princely. Not Princely at all. Unkind._ The horse shook his head in the direction of the house. _Go to him and be kind._

“I know how it must seem, how Bucky may perceive me as being unkind. But I’m not, Einar, truly. One day he may thank me for the pain I’ve spared him. Matters such as these…” Loki gave a small smile. “Perhaps they do not come up so much for a horse. There is much you may not understand—”

_Pain!_ Einar tossed his head, snorting. _I understand pain. Pain is fear, pain is not runninggallopingflying tomorrow._

“It’s different.”

_Not._ Einar looked at Loki with his mismatched eyes and stomped his front hoof. _That hurt. Will hurt still more later. Maybe cannot ride tomorrow._

“I can fix—” Loki was already reaching forward with glowing hands, but Einar snorted and tossed his head again, taking a step back.

_Not forever. Not always. Ran yesterday, Tricksy-Friend-Loki. Carried Bucky-Friend-Steve. Knew it would hurt. But it did not matter. Did not stop me. I love to run. Love to chase the wind._

“I know you do.” Loki said, rubbing his own forehead now. It all must seem so simple to Einar. His life was shorter even than Bucky’s, and he did not know… there was so much he did not know.

_Tricksy-Friend-Loki. I knew it would hurt today. But I ran anyway. And I will not take your glowingmagicwarmfix. I have lived with my pain. And I will live with it. But I will still run, as long as I can. Hurt-Friend-Bucky too. As long as he can. Will you run?_

“With you?”

_With him._ Einar walked towards his shed, a limp noticeable in his gait. Loki longed to reach out, to give him a boost as he had weeks ago. To let him run without pain for a while longer. He began to follow his friend, only to have a tail swish him in the face.

_Hurt-Friend-Bucky is waiting for you._

“I doubt he wants to talk to me now.”

_Lying. You already know he does. I hope you both come to give me my melon tomorrow._

“And who said you were getting a melon tomorrow?” Loki asked.

_A horse knows things sometimes. You would know too, if you spent more time as one. Tomorrow, maybe we all run together. Tonight. RuntalkflyBE with him. No more lying, or I will be very cross._

“Einar…” Loki sighed. He conceded defeat then, and perhaps Einar could sense it, because he did not protest when Loki rested his forehead against his shoulder. “You have more wisdom, perhaps, than I had credited you with. But there are no happy endings here.

_Endings are not happy. Endings are nothingdarkalonegone. My mother ended. The ones who tended to me before you ended. The grass ends, the sun, the moon, the chickens and the melons. These are not happy. But before ending, that is happy._

“And what,” Loki whispered, “If I am tired of endings?”

_That also ends._

“I hope you’re right.” Loki murmured. He patted Einar gently, reluctantly abiding by his wish to not be healed. Likely he would hold out on that until Loki and Bucky came to some sort of agreement, whether it was the outcome the horse seemed to have in mind or not. He was such a stubborn creature, Einar. But his years had given him wisdom—wisdom Loki had dismissed because he so often looked at the fire behind Einar’s eyes and saw Sleipnir there. He would have to catch himself from now on, stop doing that. And for the moment… he would have to go to the house.

                Bucky was making stew. It felt like a stew sort of night. And it was also the sort of meal that took a while to make. He hoped that Loki would at least pass through. See his face. Talk it out. Einar needed more seeing to than a human was really capable of, and even if he didn’t… The horse had seemed disgruntled that Loki and Bucky were at odds. Even if they weren’t fighting, not really, Bucky had tried to explain. But of course, he could not hear what Einar was saying back. He could make guesses based on body language, and he felt relatively confident in those. Some of the baleful looks Einar gave him today made him feel awkwardly like a parent putting a child through a divorce. But that was ridiculous! Einar wasn’t a child, definitely wasn’t his child. Loki might see him that way sometimes, the guy had had a horse-baby once. But even so.

                It wasn’t as though he was going anywhere. Neither was Loki, not for a while. And now that he’d had a taste of Loki’s lips to add to the glimpses he sometimes got of Loki’s very soul, he wasn’t ready to give that up. He wanted to fight for it. To be bold.

                The stew was nearly finished when the door to the house opened. Bucky looked up, schooling his features into something casual as Loki entered. For a Prince and a god, he sure looked timid stepping into the kitchen. Like he was expecting some kind of punishment, some sort of fight.

                Bucky had no use for expectations like that.

                “Stew’s just about ready. Have a nice flight?” He’d noticed Loki’s raven form swoop by the window earlier. Loki startled for a moment, then cleared his throat.

                “I did. I flew to the city, to see the young princess. How she was coming along with her measurements of my magic.”

                “Oh yeah? How’s she doing on that then?” Bucky was careful to keep his voice casual as he ladled stew into one bowl, then another. Loki took one bowl and two spoons, setting them at the table. Bucky joined him, sitting across from him as usual.

                “She’s doing remarkably well, actually. I imagine that Wakanda will have magic resistant technology before the year is out. Perhaps even technology advanced enough to mimic magic. There is a galaxy’s worth of brainpower in that child.” Loki said, somewhat fondly.

                “There is.” Bucky ate his stew patiently. Loki would speak about it first. He knew his mark by now, knew that if he was the one to initiate, Loki may panic and flee, or even lash out. And sure enough, after 4 minutes of heavy silence over the dinner table, Loki spoke up.

                “Einar is terribly fond of you, you know.”

                “He’s fond of both of us. Probably has better conversations with you, though, seeing as you can always understand him.” Bucky leaned back in his seat, making sure that once Loki made eye contact he would not break it.

                “He made use of my understanding tonight, to tell me that I’ve been a bit of an ass.”

                “Oh, is that what he said?” Bucky raised a brow.

                “Perhaps not in so many words. But it was the general gist.” Loki took a spoonful of stew as respite from the conversation, then pushed forward. “I am sorry.”

                “What are ya sorry for? Think carefully about this one, Your Highness, because there are right and wrong answers here.” Loki winced slightly, drumming his fingers on the table. Shit, Bucky’d let himself get too aggressive. Loki wanted to be anywhere in the world but right here at this moment, he could tell. But dammit, they had to get through this.

                They deserved to get through this.

                “I am sorry that I have upset you.” Loki said, and while it was not the first thing Bucky wanted to hear, it was at least honest. “The things I said… perhaps I meant them, in that moment, but it was only… What I mean to say, is that I should not have dismissed your understanding of things because you are mortal. I should not have made assumptions about your heart.”

                Now they were getting somewhere.

                “I might forgive you for that if you promise not to do it again. It was kind of messed up.”

                “I will endeavor to keep that promise. And I am also sorry for kissing you.” Loki said in a rush, and Bucky fought back a frown, then leaned forward, forcing Loki to meet his eyes with a tap of his hand in front of Loki’s bowl.

                “Oh yeah? Well I’m not. I’m not sorry you kissed me. I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

                “Bucky…” Loki sounded half pleading.

                “Listen, you look me in the face right now, and tell me in complete honesty that you don’t want any of this. That you don’t want to share more of what we shared, or to keep having Breakfast Soup and movie nights, and that’ll be one thing. But the thing is, I don’t think that’s true. I think you want us.” Bucky’s hand covered Loki’s where he was white knuckling his spoon, and his thumb smoothed over the tightened tendons. “Am I right?”

                “I…” Loki swallowed, looking from their joined hands to Bucky’s face. “You are not wrong.”

                Bucky let out an amused huff, letting his thumb sweep soothingly across Loki’s hand.

                “I want… there is much that I want Bucky. With you. But in truth, I am not certain I am ready to have it. Or that I should have it at all. There is… much to be considered. And it is not because you are a mortal—not completely, anyway. There is the plight of my people, for one. There is the, ah… ‘red in my ledger,’ as the one called Black Widow put it.”

                “Red in mine too.” Bucky pointed out.

                “Not quite the same, I think. And there is also… there is something bigger than my brother waiting out there for me in the universe. A fate I fear I cannot escape, and one that I would not share with you if I can help it.”

                “A Titan.” Bucky said quietly, tightening his hand around Loki’s as the god’s face became more haunted.

                “The Titan, in fact. Some day I must face him. I think it unwise to begin… to continue this, in light of that. I have hurt you already, my friend. I would spare you further pain, if I may.”

                Bucky was quiet for a moment, mulling that over along with everything else Loki had said. Then he let his lips quirk up into a smile.

                “You know, Shuri got me watching this show when I first came here. Doctor Who, it’s called. It’s about this alien who flies around in a time machine shaped like a police box. It’s pretty good. Not like Sense8 or anything, but it’s been running on and off the last 50 years. She figured I’d appreciate it, being all misplaced in time like I am.”

                Loki blinked at the change in subject. He opened his mouth, but Bucky released his hand to put a finger over the prince’s soft lips.

                “Anyway, the reason I bring it up, is there’s this one episode. The Doctor—that’s the time travelling alien—runs into this widow and her two kids. The widow has taken the kids to this huge mansion for Christmas, and the thing is, they don’t know their dad is dead yet. And the widow has all kinds of feelings about it and keeps shouting at the kids for basically no reason, but the Doctor, he’s a smart guy. Over a thousand years old, just like you.” Bucky paused to smile at Loki, who smiled back for a moment. Bucky relished the feeling of those lips against his finger, then he returned his hand to the table. “So he says to her, that the reason she’s shouting—poking sticks—is because every time she sees the kids happy, she remembers how sad they’re going to be. And that breaks her heart, because she thinks ‘What’s the point of them being happy now if they’re going to be sad later,’ and that’s why she yells. But then the Doctor tells her the answer to the question is, of course, that they’re going to be sad later.” Bucky waited for the understanding to dawn on Loki’s face. “You get me, pal?”

                “Funnily enough, Einar expressed a similar sentiment.” Loki smiled sadly at Bucky. “I understand what you are saying. I need… I need to think on it some more. All of it.”

                “I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’m not gonna shove my way into your bed. Just… do you think you can stop avoiding me? Do you trust me enough to be around me, with all the cards on the table.”

                “I do.” Loki said without hesitation. “I would like for things to be normal between us. And Einar would like if we both joined him for breakfast.”

                “We can do that. Any chance you can give him another magic boost? He’s been aching the past couple of days.”

                Loki smiled.

                “So long as you will accompany me, I will be glad to give it.”

                Bucky pressed a kiss to Loki’s fingers, and then released his hand. Then they both smiled at each other, and tucked properly into their stew.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, our boys aren't where they need to be yet, but they're getting there. And they have a surprisingly wise horse friend to help them through it. Please feed me comments, I love to hear what you think.
> 
> The Doctor Who episode referenced is The Doctor, The Widow, and the Wardrobe. It was a Matt Smith era Christmas special.


	11. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is mutual pining, serious discussion of the merits of The Wizard of Oz, and a horse who deserves more melons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out of the way, and I'm over 40,000 words, making this the longest thing I've ever written. Go me! Thanks as always to Slicey for helping with Einar (even if he might be more spoiled than recommended), and thank you to every one who reads and reviews!

              Bucky was in heaven. Loki’s magic fingers were rubbing at his shoulders and back, loosening muscles that were nearly always taut. He was on the floor between Loki’s legs as the god sat on the couch, seemingly paying no attention to what he was doing. Bucky knew that if he looked up, Loki’s eyes would be fixed on the screen, which was playing “The Wizard of Oz.” He also knew that while he looked away, Loki was paying careful attention to his movements. Doing his best to keep his touch clinical, but every now and again he would let his palms rest on Bucky’s back and shoulders, or brush his fingers against the flesh of Bucky’s neck as he gently moved long brown hair out of his way. This is how it had been the past couple of weeks since they talked. Loki seemed to give his affection most freely when he was not confronted about it. He still leaned into Bucky’s touch, let them fall asleep on the couch together. Enjoyed their morning breakfast soup ritual, made sure they both spent time with Einar. And, of course, offered to rub the tension out of Bucky’s muscles after a day of exertion tending to Einar, or even for no clear reason at all other than that Loki seemed to want to touch him.

                It was heaven, but it was hell at the same time. The first day or so had been awkward. Bucky was now so keenly aware of how much they’d been flirting, and was startled at the loss he felt when Loki seemed to reign in his silver tongue. He knew that Loki was thinking hard about whatever there was between them, and how far he was willing to let it go. He knew that Loki was now taking the measure of their every interaction and weighing it against the demons in his head and in his past. It was precisely what Loki had promised to do. For those first few days, Loki hadn’t avoided him, exactly, but his presence was like a ghost. He was there, silent and watching. Several times Bucky caught his lips teasing up in a challenging smirk and knew that there was some delicious retort waiting on the tip of that tongue, but then Loki would seem to shake himself and would return to normal. He remained outwardly friendly, and Einar had stopped giving him the cold shoulder (or whatever it was the horse had done to drive Loki into talking to Bucky), but it was as though he was holding his breath. Walking on eggshells, as it were, and Bucky hated that. But what else could he do? He’d laid all his cards on the table, and Loki’d said he wasn’t ready. That was fine, Bucky respected that, but he could not stand seeing the war wage inside Loki’s head and not being able to jump in and help fight it.

                “Do you have a headache?” Loki’s voice yanked Bucky back to the present.

                “Huh?” Bucky looked up, and wasn’t surprised that Loki wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, though the god’s hands stayed resting warm on his shoulders.

                “You’re tensing up again. Frowning. I thought it might be a headache.” Loki’s gaze was fully on the screen now. “The background they’re prancing off towards is so clearly a painting.”

                “Hey, cut it some slack. In 1939, just seeing it in color was amazing. It’s a great set for the time. Even for now, I think.” Bucky defended. “The Witch scared the pants off Stevie the first time we saw it. Of course, the punk wouldn’t own up to it, but he sure did keep the light on and a big ol’ glass of water near his bed the night after. Then we scraped up the money to see it again. Had to face his fears.”

                “Sounds typical of him. Why the water?”

                “Watch and see.” Bucky let himself relax back into Loki’s legs, tilting his head back to rest on his knees. “Headache’s not too bad. Was just thinking about stuff.”

                “I see. Be careful you don’t short your brain out thinking, then.” Loki gave his little smirk, which had slowly been reappearing over the past day or so. But it was short lived, his face returning to neutral almost as soon Bucky tried to meet his eyes. It was so goddamn frustrating, because Bucky knew that if they held eye contact he could have one of those peeks into Loki’s soul that he held so precious. He’d see the fondness in his eyes, the affection, the _desire_ that he knew would be reflected in his own.

                But that could be dangerous. It could make Loki skittish again, or it could make Bucky forget that there was anything in the world bigger or more important than the two of them, in their house sharing casual and then not-so-casual touches. He had to be careful.

                “Ha-ha, Your Highness. You have a headache cure in those magic fingers of yours, be my guest. Otherwise, just watch the movie.” With that, Bucky looked back towards the screen, and remained resting against Loki’s legs. _Your move, Loki._

                “Lions, tigers, and bears are not found in the same place.” Loki said simply, also returning his attention to the screen.

                “If they were, they’d sure make you go ‘oh my!’ though.”

                After a few moments of watching the Cowardly Lion join the group, Bucky felt slender fingers carding through his hair. Smiling to himself, feeling like he might actually start glowing from satisfaction, he allowed Loki to tilt his head back. Loki still would not look directly at him, but his fingers traced over the lines on Bucky’s forehead, smoothing them out. Gently, they brushed over his ears, his jaw, traced the crown of his head, thumbs rubbing gently at his temples. Bucky let out a shuddering sigh and closed his eyes, surrendering to Loki’s ministrations. If this was all he ever got… who was he to do anything less than savor it?

                Frigga must have been right, Loki thought, when she’d said her younger son suffered from a lack of self-control. How else could he explain what he was doing right now? He tried to focus on the screen, wanted to scoff at the wicked witch causing her adversaries to fall asleep in the field of poppies, but how could he when Bucky yielded before him so easily? It had been so long- centuries, even- since he’d had a lover (no, not a lover, but more than a friend) crave his touch outside of the bedroom, trust him with their well-being. But here Bucky was, literally at his feet, and Loki couldn’t seem to stop touching him. There’d been an excuse for the massage—Bucky had admitted that being without both arms often caused his back to pain him, and Loki was happy to help with that—but this? There was no headache, Loki could tell from the first touch to Bucky’s silky hair. Yet, Loki soothed him anyway, savoring the feeling, without even a spark of magic between his fingers and Bucky’s skin. In his stomach, a pit of longing formed—a building desire that fought its way to the forefront more and more often as the days went by, to cradle Bucky’s face between his hands and join their lips, to slide down to the floor beside him so they could sit as equals to each other and forget the universe. Forget Thor, forget Asgard, forget his duties and the cracks in his heart, forget even the Titan—

                There was no forgetting the titan. Loki withdrew his fingers gently from Bucky’s hair, placing his hands firmly in his own lap and focusing his gaze back on the screen. Did the girl’s hair change _again_? It was very inconsistent. He’d mentioned it early on in the film, but Bucky had elbowed him and told him not to question “movie magic.”

                “Loki?” Bucky’s head was still resting against Loki’s knees, and Loki knew that if he were to glance back down he’d see those blue eyes staring up at him with concern. Bucky was always concerned about him, even though half the time he hid it behind their banter. Concerned that he was hurting, concerned that he would leave, concerned that there was something wrong. But never concerned that Loki himself was the wrong thing, that Loki could be the one _doing_ the hurting.

                “Did you need some other hurt soothed? My, but you are a needy human today.” Loki said lightly. Weeks ago, Bucky may have taken that as a slight against him and would have returned fire, or perhaps even left the room. But not now. Now Loki’s barbed words glanced off of him—he knew too well how to listen for the fondness beneath. Instead, Bucky simply moved from the floor back to the couch, sitting close enough that their shoulders just barely touched as they shifted, but far enough that the contact could be easily avoided if Loki wished it.

                When had anyone but his very closest kin showed him such concern?

                “I’m good now. Great, actually, thanks for that. We can finish out the movie, yeah?” Bucky’s voice was light as Loki’s had been, but just as Bucky had learned to hear the fondness in Loki’s voice, so Loki had learned to hear the caution in Bucky’s. If this was all that he could take in good conscience (and it was such a drag to actually have one of those sometimes), then he would savor every moment of it. He relaxed into the couch, allowing their shoulders to touch. Bucky relaxed as well, and Loki pushed all thoughts of the Titan away, electing to watch Dorothy and her friends get the Wicked Witch’s broom in peace.

                “You do realize that this “Glinda the Good” was the real villain of this story.”

                “Oh, come on, you can’t shit on The Wizard of Oz, I thought you’d like the man behind the curtain thing.” Bucky was laughing, nudging Loki’s shoulder.

                “Oh, he was entertaining enough. A fast talker, to be sure, and I appreciate that in a person. But it’s not him I take the issue with. Glinda could have sent that child home any time—”

                “Dorothy wouldn’t have believed her, she said it! She needed to go on a journey, like heroes do in stories…”

                “Wouldn’t have believed her?” Loki rotated his head and for the first time in days held Bucky’s gaze. “The child and her house were swept away from their sepia land by a tornado, dropped into a land of brightly colored plastic, landed on a witch, of all things. And she emerged from this house to find a hundred little people praising her for killing the witch, a fairy lady arriving by bubble, and a green, wicked witch that throws fire, and you’re saying she wouldn’t have at least _attempted_ to click her heels?”

                “Listen…”

                “The girl only wanted to protect her dog and return home, and this ‘Glinda’ witch set her on a dangerous path to meet with a man she obviously knew had no real power, and who in the end forced her to _murder_.”

                “That’s a really cynical…” Bucky began weakly, but Loki cut him off.

                “Someone _died_ , Bucky Barnes.” Loki stood with a sense of finality and walked out. Bucky knew that he was going to give Einar an apple for his evening treat. He suppressed a grin and followed, jogging to catch up.

                “That movie is a classic, you know. Ground breaking cinema. And it has the flying monkeys! Who doesn’t love that? Y’know, ‘Fly, my pretties, fly!’” Bucky waved his arm in a vaguely menacing manner and hitched his voice up to an evil cackle. Loki snorted.

                “Flying monkeys. Humans, honestly.”

                “That’s racist.”

                “Is it?” Loki had that sharky grin on his face that Bucky had been missing lately and tossed the apple casually as they came to the side of the field where Einar was grazing.

                “Species-ist at least.” Bucky teased back, also grinning. This—this was so rare since Steve had visited. Since they’d kissed. But now—now it was as if the awkwardness had disappeared, and they continued to bandy back and forth easily as Einar whinnied his greeting and greedily snatched his apple from Loki’s fingers.

                “Specious is the word you’re looking for, I believe.” Loki was looking at him from under long lashes, the grin still teasing at the corners of his lips and Bucky wanted to reach out and trace the shape of it.

                “Not all of us had the royal education, Your Highness. Don’t go tossing your 50 cent words at me, not when we’re discussing Oz.”

                “Are my words only worth fifty cents? I’d have thought they’d be valued more highly.”

                “Most people only get a penny for their thoughts.”

                “I am not most people.”

                “No, you aren’t.” Bucky leaned against Einar’s neck, letting the horse’s mane hide what must have been an absolutely stupid smile. It was amazing, how Loki could make him feel like a teenager sometimes, like he could still be that kid who’d danced with all the girls before he marched off to war. “Five dollar words, then. Adjusted for inflation.”

                Loki’s eyes were warm and fond as he stroked Einar’s nose, and Bucky let his hand tighten slightly in Einar’s mane, before he ruined everything again. Loki was always more at ease with Einar around, but there was no telling how he’d react if Bucky responded too strongly.

                “That still doesn’t seem like very much.” Loki remarked.

                “Let’s take it on a word by word basis. I’ll let you know if you hit a million dollar one.” Bucky offered, and relished in Loki’s smile.

                “Fair enough.” Loki grinned.

                _I do not want dollars for my words. I want melons._ Einar interjected, and Bucky burst out laughing, wrapping his arm more fully around the horse’s neck for a hug. Loki snorted and rested his forehead against Einar’s, and Einar’s feeling of _lovetrusthappysafe_ circled through their minds.

                “Your words are worth ten of mine, my friend.” Loki murmured.

                “Worth all the melons in the world, buddy.” Einar’s ears pricked up in interest and Loki chuckled softly, pulling away from the horse.

                “But you’ve already had an apple tonight. Sleep well, Einar.”

                _Hurt-Friend-Bucky will give me a melon._

                “I sure will- maybe for breakfast.” Bucky laughed as Einar stamped his front hoof and bumped his side. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe if I can’t sleep, a melon might find its way into the shed tonight.”

                _You are a good friend. I hope you sleep peacefully after you bring me my melon._

                “Spoiled!” Loki called as he headed back towards the house. Einar let out an indignant whinny.

                _Not even a bit!_

                “Of course you’re not, buddy.” Bucky soothed, hiding a grin as he watched Loki duck inside.

                _Okay, Hurt-Friend-Bucky? You feel… feel longingwantsad but also happycontentsafe._

                “I’m good, bud. Ball’s in his court, is all.” Feeling Einar’s confusion, Bucky elaborated. “He knows how I feel, and how he feels. He says he’s not ready to be with me, he’s not sure—I gotta respect that. We both do.” Bucky lightly admonished as he sensed Einar’s desire to do something distinctly not respecting that. “He needs to make the first move this time. But we’re still… we’re good friends, okay? Maybe I don’t get what I want here, but that’s okay.”

                _You want Tricksy-Friend-Loki to be your friendmatelovebelonginghome. Yours and you his._

                Bucky huffed and leaned into Einar again, then began walking towards the house, with Einar following.

                “Something like that, yeah. But if he doesn’t want that, or if he feels like it can’t happen… it has to go both ways, or it doesn’t go at all.”

                _I hope it goes. I want my friends to always be happycontentsafe._

                “We want that for you too.” Bucky patted Einar’s shoulder as they passed the shed. “Don’t stay up too late, buddy.”

                _Do not forget my melon, Hurt-Friend-Bucky. I have given many of my words._ Einar turned towards his shed and Bucky continued on to the house, a small smile on his face.

                “He’ll be cross with you if you do not bring him that melon now, you know.” Loki said as he entered the house. The god was standing at the sink, sipping at a glass of water, and Bucky noted with a sinking heart that his stance had changed right back to being closed off and defensive.

                “Yeah, I, uhh… how much of that did you hear, actually?”

                “Before you came close? Mostly Einar’s side of the conversation.” Loki looked apologetic, at least. “I could tell he wanted to speak to you, and I thought he’d have an easier time if I continued to facilitate the connection. I was not… I was not trying to eavesdrop, truly.” He put the water down and made an abortive gesture towards Bucky, but then drew back into himself. “I thought I would be able to give you more privacy, block out the conversation entirely… but I failed to do so.”

                “Oh. Well, okay…” Bucky cleared his throat, fighting down a blush. “For the record, we manage alright on our own, without being able to talk. I know you didn’t mean any harm or anything.”

                “And yet once again, I have caused it.” Loki looked melancholy, his whole body drawn tight. Bucky was having none of that.

                “Did I say that? Pretty sure I didn’t.” Bucky risked a step closer to the god. “Wasn’t talkin’ about anything that you don’t already know.” He kept his voice soft. “You’re fine, Loki.”

                “I will not do it again, unless you request it.”

                “I appreciate that.” Bucky smiled and took advantage of Loki’s earnestness to make eye contact and let the prince see that he was sincere, that the affection Bucky held for him truly was unchanged. Loki relaxed, and, to Bucky’s surprise, closed the distance between them.

                “And I appreciate _you_ , Bucky Barnes.” Loki’s lips twitched for a second, and then he leaned in and kissed the corner of Bucky’s mouth, causing Bucky’s heart to skip a beat or two. “Whatever comes… thank you for waiting for me.”

                Loki turned towards his room, and on impulse Bucky grabbed his hand, making him turn back. It was almost a dance, really, this push-and-pull they had with each other. And he’d dance right to hell with it, for more moments like this.

                “Whatever comes, Loki…” Bucky allowed himself to press a kiss to Loki’s palm before releasing him. “I’ll be here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Bucky does not know what specious means. Loki, however, does, and is using it appropriately in his own teasing way.  
> Einar just wants these boys to kiss! And stick with it this time! I feel the same way, tbh.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment, I love those things. Next time: ... we haven't heard from Thor in a while, have we? Maybe he'll show up. And maybe some angst to make up for all the fluff here. We'll see!


	12. Brotherly Love is Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is fluid, Thor has a chronic case of foot-in-mouth syndrome, and chivalry is not dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up waaaaay later than I should have to finish this chapter. Thanks as always to Slicey for seeing to Einar's care and well being. I'm gonna go to sleep now.

               It was a rainy day when Thor finally managed to get down to Wakanda and check in with his brother. He brought with him the latest in a large stack of papers that the United Nations had given him. They had called a recess at last, and the leaders of Norway had given temporary leave for the ship to land in the unoccupied area where Odin had said his last farewell. The people were not to build anything permanent just yet, there was too much left to be buttoned down, but Tony had paid for a number of temporary buildings, and Steve had volunteered to help him assemble and assign each building a purpose. Bruce had laid claim to the first one, claiming they needed more room for medical purposes than was allowed for in the relatively small sick bay on the Statesman. Natasha and Clint had also volunteered their assistance in helping to direct the people, along with Vision and the Maximoff girl preparing a proper mess hall.

                Thor knew the presence of the Avengers among his people was, at least in part, a way to assure and appease the human powers that be. But he was still beyond himself with gratitude that they had put aside their differences—“shelved their crap” was the term Tony’d used—to help his people in his plight. He’d been hesitant to leave at first—surely, as king, he should stay among his subjects—but Heimdall (and Steve, strangely) had insisted he could spare a few days to visit his brother.

                As he made his way towards the farm house, he allowed the rain to continue to fall. Among the many things he had learned with the long and varied debates at the UN was the fragility of Earth’s climate. He’d avoid changing the natural weather for now, unless otherwise asked. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could manage it without Mjolnir. He was not the God of Hammers, he knew but… the hammer had helped. He knocked on the door.

                “Yeah—oh, Thor. Hi.” Barnes had answered the door, looking surprised to see him. “Here, come in out of the rain.”

                Thor nodded and followed the human into the kitchen area.

                “Thank you, Barnes. Hello, brother—” Loki turned in her chair to face him, her features soft and her eyebrows raised sardonically. “Pardon me. Sister. I should have checked.”

                “’Pardon me’ He says. My, my you have been spending time with the politicians.” Loki drained the glass of water in front of her and stood to properly greet her brother. “I trust you have news?”

                Thor was vaguely aware of Barnes shifting next to him and was surprised at the small smile gracing his sister’s face which was directed at Barnes rather than him.

                “I do. And I have things to read.” He held out the stack of papers. “Stark’s lawyers have been helpful, and so has Heimdall. Even so, I have missed your counsel. We are coming close to an agreement, I think, but before I sign anything permanent…”

                “Thank the Norns you have a brain in your head after all. Let me at it, then.” Loki took the papers into slender hands.

                “Want some lunch, Thor?” Barnes asked. “We still have some sandwich meat left.”

                “That would be wonderful, thank you.” Thor sat at the table across from his sister.

                “That’s Bucky’s seat.” She said absently, a finely manicured nail running down the lines of text with impressive speed.

                “It’s fine, I ate.” Barnes dropped some bread and some meat and cheese in front of Thor, then returned with a plate. “I think I’ll head out to see how Einar’s doing.”

                Loki raised her head with a pout.

                “Einar is fine. I thought humans weren’t meant to go out in the rain.”

                “It’s fine, I won’t melt or anything.” Barnes gave a single armed shrug and Loki laughed.

                “No, I suppose you won’t, not being a wicked witch and all.”

                “I dunno, I can be pretty wicked.”

                “Not wicked enough. After all, only bad witches are ugly.” Loki grinned and Barnes huffed a laugh, turning to the door.

                “Okay, sure, let’s go with that. You have fun making your way through all that. I hope All-speak covers legalese.” Barnes stepped out, closing the door behind him, leaving Loki with a soft smile on her face.

                “Alright, what was that?” Thor asked. “And what is this?”

                “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Loki had returned her attention to the documents before her, a flick of her wrist pulling a quill from one of her pocket dimensions and beginning to make notes in the margins.

                “Your face, it’s doing things.”

                “My face is simply my face.” Loki immediately schooled her features into neutrality, but Thor reached a large hand across the table to cover the papers.

                “You cannot lie to me, sister.” He said as Loki looked up in irritation. Her face was less angular as a woman, her lips fuller, but her expressions remained unchanged. Thor readied himself to move quickly in the event of a dagger making an appearance.

                “History shows I’m quite skilled at lying to you. Do not make a fool of yourself, Thor, you’re fool enough already. Did you want me to read this or not?”

                “I do want you to read this. But I also want to know what is going on between you and Barnes.”

                “He prefers Bucky. Move your hand before I stab it.”

                “You and Bucky then.” Thor moved his hand out of the way, setting to work on constructing a sandwich. “I’ve not seen you look like this in centuries.”

                “You seldom enjoyed my company as a woman.” Loki said coldly as she turned the page. “Embarrassing enough that I did tricks rather than fight battles properly, but worse still that my gender was every bit as changeable as the rest of me.”

                “Loki!” Thor frowned at his sister. “You know it wasn’t that. Did I not support you as you birthed Sleipnir? Did I not keep your secret from Father? When Narfi was young and curious, did I not take him on my knee and tell him that he was blessed to have both a father and a mother in you whenever Sigyn was away on Alfheim— OUCH, dammit all…” Thor squawked as one of Loki’s daggers sank into his shoulder, causing him to drop his sandwich.

                “Do not talk about them.” Loki’s face was like ice. “Do not say their names. They are gone. Let us focus on the present problem, which is that I can already tell that you are not signing this document. You’ve not defined our people properly.”

                “What is there to define? They are of Asgard, they are with us.” Thor tugged a bit at the dagger, grunting. “Since when are your daggers barbed?”

                “Since I decided you deserved it. And perhaps this hasn’t occurred to you brother, but not everyone who is with us is of Asgard. Korg, Miek, the other gladiators—all different species. Some of the survivors are Vanir. And, if I may remind you, I am Jotun.”

                “Jotun-born, perhaps, but you are as much of Asgard as I am. You are our Prince—sorry, Princess. And my heir.” Thor said firmly, finally tugging the dagger out with a groan. “What did I screw up about this?”

                “You defined us as a race, and if you intend to include everyone on the ship as citizens of Asgard, you need to explicitly say that. You need to be willing to vouch for them, have some way of processing or recording citizenship.” Loki’s voice softened into something more sympathetic. “You are a sentimental man, Thor, as ever. But simply seeing people as yours does not make it so. Have the gladiators consented to becoming citizens of Asgard?”

                “Korg says that they’d like to stick with me, but I haven’t asked officially… I did not expect this to be so complicated. You warned me, I know, you and Bruce both, but I still didn’t…” Thor shook his head helplessly. “Is there anything else?”

                “Patience now, brother, I’ve only gotten through the first two pages. I will read the lot tonight and present my full notes over breakfast. Speaking of, do stop bleeding on the table, you’ll give Bucky vapors. Now, tell me—do Earth’s rulers know that I am here? Or any of your Avenging friends aside from Captain Rogers?” Loki leaned back in her chair, folding her hands over her belly.

                “The Avengers know. We’ve decided to tell the UN that you are among the survivors, and quite unwilling to do any more harm here on Earth. I’ve not told them where you are. T’Challa will decide when revealing that information will be best. He does not wish to jeopardize the diplomatic standing of his country.” Thor tore a strip off the end of his cape and held it to the bleeding wound. “You could just heal me, you know.”

                “Healing magic is not my forte. T’Challa is more canny than I thought—Shuri told me that until quite recently Wakanda has been very isolated. It’s a smart move to hold as many cards to his chest as he can—then he can spend them at will, once the dust begins to settle.” Loki’s voice was approving as she summoned a new glass of water to her hand.

                “Well, if you’re not going to heal me, and if we will be discussing the fate of New Asgard on the morrow, then it brings us back to square one. What was going on with your face?” Thor grinned as Loki groaned.

                “Do I need to stab you again? My face is simply my face. It’s not doing anything.”

                “You’ve made a friend in Barnes.”

                “Bucky. And what if I have? Are you surprised?” Loki’s arms were wrapped defensively around her chest now.

                “Pleasantly.” Thor smiled. “I think you made him blush earlier, with your womanly wiles.” Loki’s scowl only intensified at that.

                “My ‘womanly wiles’ have nothing to do with it. Honestly, Thor.” She stood with a huff and walked over to his brother, slapping his hands away from his wound. “This is unsanitary.”

                “You’re the one that did it!”

                “And I do not regret it one whit.” Loki banished the bloody strip of cape and the dagger to one of her pocket dimensions, then placed her hands on either side of the wound. “I did expect you to have more sense than ‘wait and see if it stops bleeding’ by now.”

                “I knew you would heal me. And I know you’re still avoiding the subject! Come on now, sister, Steve was happy when he returned from his visit here. Happy with how you and your Bucky were getting along. Urgh!” Thor grunted and squirmed as Loki roughly stitched his wound together with magic. “Gently! Loki, you’re making it hurt on purpose!”

                “Don’t be such an infant. I told you, healing magic is not my forte. And perhaps you could also take a hint and _leave it_.” Loki removed her hands, leaving torn armor and a roughshod job on the wound behind. “Why are you even in full armor, it makes me want to stab you more.”

                “Odd reaction, that. And it’s because I’ve come directly from making a speech to the U.N. before they broke for a few days recess, this is the only formalwear I have. Stark has offered use of his tailor but the suits… they feel unnatural to me.”

                “There will be a great many things that feel unnatural if we stay here.” Loki commented as she went to wash her hands. “You may as well get used to it.”

                Bucky found Einar in the shed, as he thought he would. The rain would be making his joints swell. Tending to him would be a pleasant distraction from his usual pleasant distraction… and that distraction’s big brother. Who was also the God of Thunder.

                “Hey, buddy, how are you doing?” He asked as he ducked into the shed. Einar perked up at seeing him, and accepted the hand on the side of his face. He snuffled around Bucky’s pockets, searching for treats. “No apples today, sorry.” Bucky scratched the horse’s ears. “You aching, bud?”

                Einar snorted and shifted his weight. Bucky knelt and ran his hand over the front of Einar’s leg slowly, frowning as a touch to the horse’s knee made him twitch.

                “Right there, huh?” Bucky lightly massaged the joint. Loki was better at this part—even without the magic she still had the benefit of two hands. Yet Einar always seemed to accept Bucky’s touch just as much as he did Loki’s. Bucky repeated the examination with other front limb, finding it not as swollen, but likely still painful.

                “I’m gonna check your hinds, okay? But I’m thinking an ice pack, right?”

                Einar snickered in response. Bucky checked the hind legs for swelling, sighing as he rubbed swollen ankles and knees. He wished Loki could give Einar those magical boosts more often. With a grunt he got up and opened the small ice box in the corner of the shed, pulling out a baggie of crushed ice. Then he grabbed two hand towels from the wall, wrapping the baggie in one of them.

                “Alright, bud, you’re gonna have to help me out, okay? Think you can lift your leg for me?” Bucky offered his own leg forward and Einar lifted one of his front legs to rest against it. As quickly as he could, Bucky used the second towel to wrap the icepack around Einar’s knee, cursing lightly when he fumbled, but he managed and tapped the horse’s leg as a signal that he could let his leg down.

                “Sorry, not as good with my hands as our Tricksy friend. But her brother is here to visit, and I figured I’d leave them to it. How does fresh straw sound? Be easier when you turn in tonight, so long as you don’t eat it all.”

                Einar snorted and took Bucky’s empty sleeve gently in his teeth before he could turn to fetch the fresh straw from the tarps around back. Bucky smiled and scratched Einar’s snout, then hooked the stool in the corner with his foot, dragging it over and sitting down.

                “Time for horse therapy, huh?”

                Einar let out that wheezing sound that Bucky now knew for sure was a laugh. Bucky grinned up at his friend.

                “I don’t know if horses have the whole big brother thing, but let’s just say when you’re, ah, thinking of a romance with someone, that someone’s big brother is the one that’s supposed to let you have it if you mess up. Get it?” Bucky waited for Einar to prick his ears forward in understanding, though the horse also rolled his mismatched eyes. “Yeah, I know, you have faith in me. I appreciate it. It’s just… it’s so new, this thing with Loki. I mean, I’m not even sure there’s going to be a thing with Loki at the end of the day, but I want there to be. And every day it feels like we take a few steps closer to being together, but every now and again, there will be a big step back. Those smooth over pretty quick, but it’s like there’s this big wall. And I don’t know which one of us has to climb over it.”

                Einar tilted his head, then lowered it to snuffle Bucky’s hair.

                “What, are you grazing up there?”

                Einar wheezed.

                “Yeah, alright Chuckles. I’m glad I amuse you. I just didn’t want to be around for… if Thor knows Loki as well as Stevie knows me, he might figure out that something’s going on. Or that something might go on, I don’t know. But the thing is… Thor’s not just her big brother. He’s her king. And he obviously intends—I mean, he came here with all these important papers for her to look over. He wants her to be his advisor, and who can blame him because she’s brilliant, but she’ll have to go, you know? When the time comes. And I don’t know if I can follow her. Thor might need her to focus, and I don’t really help with that... hey!” Bucky flailed as Einar nudged him off the stool and on to his back. The horse looked down at him and snorted. Bucky thought that on a human the look might have been a glare.

                “Of course if I could we’d take you with us!” After another snort, Bucky sighed. “And you’re right, I doubt even a king could tell our tricksy friend what to do. Loki will do what she wants. And I think what she wants is to be with me. Like…” Bucky’s lips quirked up in a smile. He couldn’t help it. “It’s like she smooths over all my rough edges, and sometimes I think I smooth over hers. You know I haven’t been afraid of the Soldier in weeks? I mean, still with the nightmares, but I know she can handle those. And on the off chance that I go nuts, I know she can handle that too, and she won’t blame me for what the Soldier does. And she has me half convinced that it really wouldn’t be my fault, too.”

                Einar straightened up and whinnied, and Bucky got back to his feet.

                “Glad you think it’ll work out. Alright, think it’s time to rotate that ice pack. Next leg up!”

                Bucky tended to Einar, and Einar let him.

                “It’s going to get dark soon, shouldn’t your friend be back by now?” Thor asked as he flipped through television channels. Loki sighed from where she was flipping through the UN papers, smoothing out the dark green skirt she’d materialized for herself this morning. It fell just above her knees, and Bucky’s reaction to seeing her was something she’d savor for centuries. He’d looked up from the breakfast soup he was brewing and dropped his jaw had dropped.

      Loki’s gender had changed in the night, some time between dinner and retiring to bed. She’d announced it to Bucky as he’d promised to. Bucky had said “Alright. So do what you need to do to get yourself comfortable.” And Loki had smiled, kissed his cheek, and begun changing her features to what she felt most comfortable with. Bucky had watched in fascination, then nodded at her and they resumed watching Doctor Who. She hadn’t changed her clothes til the morning.

      But oh, it was worth it. Bucky’s immediate reaction, the flush in his cheeks as he dragged his eyes away from her skirt and the white tunic that clung to her small breasts back to her face, his stammering “good morning,” how he’d pulled out her chair for her and kept his eyes firmly on her face as they’d eaten breakfast until she’d smiled at something he said and he’d grinned back broadly, saying her nose still crinkled the same way.

“Lo?” Thor’s voice jerked her back to the present.

“He’s out with Einar, he’s fine. Actually,” Loki set the papers aside and stood. “You’ve not met him properly. Off your arse, brother, Bucky could use the help, and Einar will appreciate an apple on a day like this. Notice you’re not bringing the sunshine, by the by.”

“I am the God of Thunder, not sunshine.” Thor said, hauling himself off the couch. “And this planet has a delicate climate. I think I will avoid interfering with the natural weather patterns overmuch.”

“How responsible of you.” Loki led the way out, striding through what was now a light mist towards Einar’s shed. In the dimmed light of the sunset, she could see Bucky hauling straw from under the tarp. “Stubborn man.” She smiled fondly and cast her magic to lift the straw and keep it dry as it floated into the shed. Bucky looked up and waved his arm in thanks, heading in to the shed as well. When Loki and Thor entered, Bucky was already at work laying down the fresh straw for Einar to lay down in.

_Tricksy-Friend-Loki! Smell different still._ Einar had given his assessment of Loki’s gender as she fed him her breakfast, remarking mostly that she smelled sweeter. _Is that an apple?_

“It is an apple. But after you’ve eaten some grains.” Loki said, stroking Einar’s cheek and sharing a grin with Bucky. “This is my idiot brother, the King of Asgard. I don’t think you met properly before.”

_Idiot-King?_ Einar was disinterested, more concerned with snuffling around Loki’s hair (longer and curlier than it usually was) and in her tunic, searching for the apple. Loki laughed.

“Idiot-King sounds perfect, doesn’t it?”

“Kings typically garner more respect.” Thor said unhappily. “One would think you’d tire of having a horse at your bosom, and yet here we are.”

Three things happened at once. Einar jerked away from Loki, startled by the sudden onslaught of _ragepainsorrowfuryice_ , Bucky moved forward with a frown on his face, saying that a face in a lady’s bosom was not gentleman-like but immediately cutting himself off, because at that same moment Loki had Thor on his toes against the wall of the shed with a bang that shook the structure, holding him there with strength that belied her smaller stature.

“Sister, I—”

“Silence, Thor, before I stab you again.” Loki’s voice was ice, and the temperature dropped as her eyes swirled from green to red and back. She slowly backed away from her brother, letting him off the wall. He raised his hands appeasingly, his face apologetic.

“Lo, I didn’t mean…”

A dagger flew past his ear, nicking him as it buried itself into the wall of the shed.

“I will not warn you again. An oath I swore, brother, to harm no human. You are not human.”

Thor frowned, now drawing himself up to his full impressive height. Bucky tried to step between them but found his way blocked by Einar, who was trembling.

“It is you who must take warning, sister. Remember to whom you speak, and how. It is your right to live freely that I fight for.”

“You fight for your people, Thor, not me. You say your pretty words when you have need of me, but it is always what is said without forethought that reveals your true nature. A sentimental man for the idea of me, but as ever not a lick of understanding for that which is different from you. I know who I am speaking to—a king who does not know how to be a king.” Loki was sneering, the tips of her fingers turning blue. “Who cannot even practice the most basic diplomacy among someone he claims as family.”

“And I suppose you could do better? Is that your plan, then, your little backdoor in your oath? Will you take my memories, wear my face as you did to Father—”

“ _Odin was not my father.”_ Loki snarled, and Thor’s fingers seemed to crackle with lightning before Bucky finally squeezed past Einar and planted himself between the two gods priming themselves to fight.

“That’s enough!” He barked. “You’re scaring Einar. Take it outside. Or better yet, just calm down. Loki, I mean it, no more daggers. And Thor…” He turned more fully to face the King. “You don’t joke about someone’s kids like that. It ain’t funny, and it ain’t right. I get that you’re a king and all, and I get that your sister has probably been driving you up a wall for centuries, but if you’re gonna be like that you can get yourself a room back at the Capital.”

Both siblings were silent as they regarded the human standing between them. Bucky remained tense until Loki turned away, gently approaching Einar again. She leaned her forehead against the horse’s until his trembling stopped. Bucky maintained eye contact with Thor, whose one eye focused on him for longer than he was strictly comfortable with, but with Loki and Einar behind him he wasn’t about to back off. Finally, Thor’s face twitched into what might have been a brief smile before he bowed his head.

“I am sorry. Truly. I can offer no excuse except for my own thick headedness.” Thor raised his voice slightly to get his sister’s attention. “If I stay or go is up to you, Loki. I know what your children meant to you, and I know that what happened to Sleipnir was a travesty. For all our quarrels, I must respect that, and honor his memory. Not being a parent myself, perhaps I’ve never understood your pain. But I swear to you that I am trying now. To be a King who knows what he’s doing.” Thor shrugged. “Most of the time I don’t think I do.”

“The moment you are certain you know what you’re doing,” Loki said after a moment, “Is when you’ve stopped being a king and become a tyrant.” She turned her head towards her brother. “Your apologies are so dramatic. Take my room. You’re too oafish for the couch.”

Thor nodded and grinned.

“We don’t all have the advantage of being able to change our shape. And my apologies to you, as well Einar. Perhaps we will have an easier meeting on the morrow.”

_Not likely. Idiot-King-Brother._ Einar had resumed his search for the apple Loki had tucked into her skirt. _Too much excitement for an old horse. I deserve the apple now._

“I’m sure you do.” Thor ducked out of the shed. “I wish you all a good night.”

“A good night, he says.” Loki remarked as she fed Einar his apple at last. “Temperamental as the weather.”

“He’s not the only one.” Bucky said, scooping some grain into a bucket for Einar’s proper dinner.

“We’ve always quarreled.” She eyed Bucky from under her lashes. “I may be a woman at the moment, but I am no damsel in need of rescuing, Bucky Barnes.”

“That’s not what I was doing.” Loki raised a royal brow at him and he squirmed. “Alright, maybe a little bit. Old habits and all. But I meant what I said. I know how much Sleipnir means to you, and I’ve only known you a few months. And hey, he made another joke when he first dropped you here, now that I think on it. It’s not alright.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” Loki regarded him. “I’ve never had someone defend my children’s memory before, least of all from my brother.”

Bucky stepped closer to her.

“I’ll do it every time. No matter what gender. And no matter who’s talking.” He swore, and she smiled at him, raising a hand to his face. He smiled back, holding her hand to his cheek.

“A noble promise. Even when I’m not so soft and pretty?”

“You’re not always soft.” Bucky said, his lips brushing over her palm. “But you are always pretty.”

Loki raised her other hand to Bucky’s head, pulling him down and she could feel the breath on her lips and—a soft thwump jerked them apart. They looked over and Einar had lain down on his fresh bed of straw, watching them both expectantly.

_You should do what you were doing. Do not pay me any mind. I am contenthappysafe. You should contenthappyrunfly. Safe._

The two looked at each other and shared a chuckle.

“Goodnight, Einar.” Loki said pointedly. But she held Bucky’s hand as they left. Halfway to the house Loki stopped and said “I am very changeable.”

“I know. Keeps things interesting.” Bucky paused and watched as Loki changed his features to his male form. “The shirt’s a bit small on you now.”

“Hm.” With a shimmer of green light, the tunic became large and loose, and the skirt turned into the soft black pants that Loki preferred to sleep in. “Still pretty, then?” He asked, quirking a brow at the human. Bucky kissed his hand.

“Gorgeous.”

“You seemed to find me more attractive as a woman.” Loki probed.

“Nah, just… differently attractive. Sorry I was acting like such a cheese this morning, it’s just…”

“You were raised to respond differently to a woman than you would to a man.” Loki finished for him.

“I was raised to hide my responses to a man.” Bucky corrected. “But yeah, also to be a gentleman for the ladies. But I can keep that up if you like.” He stepped ahead so he would be first to the door, and held it open for Loki to step through, sweeping his arm dramatically. Loki laughed as he passed, tugging Bucky in behind him.

“You haven’t asked.” Loki said abruptly as they began to make up the couch.

“What’s that?”

“You know about Sleipnir. Thor mentioned my other child. You haven’t asked about him. You usually do.” Bucky heaved a sigh.

“I figured it’s a story you’ll tell when you’re ready to tell me. I’m curious, sure. But I know talking about Sleipnir was painful for you, so I let it alone. If you want to tell me, though…. I’m all ears.”

Loki was quiet for a moment as they finished setting the couch for sleep. He gathered up the UN papers, carefully stacked them into what had already been read and what he still had to go through.

“Narfi.” He said at last. “His name was Narfi, and his mother’s name was Sigyn. He is gone now, and Sigyn… never quite forgave me for that. I’m not sure where she is, or if she is yet living. But that was centuries ago. He had my magic.” Loki paused again, and looked up at Bucky. “That is all I want to say for now.”

“Thank you for trusting me with it.” Bucky said. “You gonna be up reading through that thing?” He gestured vaguely at the papers.

“I’m afraid so. Thor needs a solid plan of attack when he returns to the negotiating table.”

“Nothing I could help with, probably.”

“Probably not.” Loki stepped close to Bucky again. “But you would if I asked you to, wouldn’t you.” It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yeah,” Bucky smirked, his hand coming to rest on Loki’s waist. “I would.”

“And if I told you that I had to leave our house here, go to Norway to fulfill my Princely duties, you would follow me.” Loki brushed silky brown hair out of Bucky’s eyes.

“As long as it was alright with you.” Bucky answered honestly. His eyes were so clear, Loki thought.

“And if I told you there was a battle ahead of me that I could not hope to win…”

“I would still fight it with you.” Bucky said, his voice firm and his eyes flashing with determination.

“Bucky Barnes, I do believe you are insane.” Loki said, and then he finally, finally pulled Bucky’s lips to his, and when they fell back onto the couch together, breathing each other in, Loki thought the future just might hold hope for him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY I was gonna put it off another chapter but goddammit they earned this one. Only one or two chapters left in this story, I think, then it will be on to the next in the series. As always, I appreciate all your reviews.
> 
> Also I love Thor deeply, he just has to unlearn some stuff and also remember to have a filter. And he may have had a motive for starting that last fight there. He's a good bro, okay? Goodnight!


	13. Chances Worth Taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find what they need, Thor is a good brother, and Bucky wishes that these Norse Gods would appreciate how precious basic hygiene at the table is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short one, but an important one. We're in the denouement for this particular story after this, but we are far from the end of the series. Thanks as always to Slicey for helping me get this chapter out.

                Loki had work to do. He just could not be bothered to get to it. More important, he thought, was relearning the taste and shape of Bucky’s lips, tracing the strong line of his draw, feeling the stubble under his fingers. When Bucky drew back for breath, this time Loki chased his lips, licking back into his mouth enthusiastically, rejoicing when Bucky’s arm wrapped around him, tugging him close enough that Loki had to throw a leg across his to stay comfortable. Once he was settled comfortably on Bucky’s lap, he felt that one strong hand come to rest on his thigh and he all but purred, rolling his hips invitingly.

                “Wait, wait…” Bucky gasped, pulling his head back. Seeming to struggle with the idea of waiting, he pressed his lips to Loki’s once, twice more before he could finish a sentence. “Loki… I need you to be sure about this. That you’re ready for this, that you want this.”

                “I want you.” Loki said breathily, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. Bucky closed his eyes and Loki could feel his thumb gently smoothing over his thigh, that same soothing gesture Bucky used so often when their hands were joined. Loki shuddered at the sheer amount of _care_ he felt from the other man. He pressed another brief kiss to Bucky’s lips, allowing himself a small moan when it was returned.

                “I want you too.” Bucky said when they parted, opening his eyes and keeping up that soothing caress. “You know I do. That’s why I need to know that you’re sure. That you’re not gonna jump away from me, spend another day avoiding me because you aren’t ready for the tough part of… of becoming _us_.”

                Loki felt a lump in his throat, and he shut his eyes against Bucky’s piercing stare. In a long history of poor, selfish choices, he wondered if he was about to make the worst one yet.

                “I… I can’t—” He began haltingly, only to be cut off by Bucky’s hand moving from his thigh to his mouth, calloused fingers gently resting against his lips.

                “I know. I know there’s so much I don’t know. About your past, about the world—worlds—outside of this little home we’ve made. I know that you have duties to your people. And I know that there’s something big and scary out there coming for you, and that you think you have to face it alone, and you don’t think you’ll come out the other side. I know all that. And I accept it, alright? Loki, when I…” Bucky paused, breathed as though preparing himself for a plunge, and Loki opened his eyes. Bucky held his gaze. “When I fell in love with you, I didn’t do it blind, and I didn’t do it halfway. That’s why I need you to be sure. I’m not looking for promises of a perfect relationship or a happy ending, I’m just…” Bucky let out a little half laugh. “I’m looking for you, I guess. A promise of you, every shade and gender you come in. I’m looking for you to trust me.”

                Bucky held his breath after he finished speaking, letting his fingers slip from Loki’s lips to where one of the Prince’s hands was resting gently on his chest. He threaded their fingers together, scanning Loki’s face for any and every sign of what was happening behind those green eyes. Loki’s body was taut, which was not the best sign in the world. But he had not pulled away, he let Bucky hold his hand. He was thinking. Bucky began rubbing his thumb over Loki’s knuckles, noting with concern that Loki seemed to have stop breathing as well. It felt like being suspended in a pocket of forever, an eternity of uncertainty held in only a few seconds.

                _Please believe me._ He thought, not allowing his thumb to stop its soothing motion. _Believe me. Know me. Trust me._

                “I…” Loki began, then cleared his throat. “Bucky, I…” And to Bucky’s horror, his eyes seemed to be filling with tears. “You…”

                “Hey, hey, hey… shhhh…” Bucky had never wished more for both arms than he had at that moment, so he could hug Loki close without breaking contact.

                “You can’t… can’t possibly…” Loki gasped as tears spilled over, and for a moment he seemed like he was going to push away, push and shove and poke sticks and run away and this time never come back… but no. Bucky wasn’t letting that happen, not when he was so clearly at a breaking point. Tightening his grip on Loki’s hand, he tilted his head to catch the prince’s increasingly wild eyes again.

                “Hey. I said I can. I do. Loki, I do.” Praying to every deity that existed, Bucky let go of Loki’s hand to slide his fingers into the god’s dark curls, gently guiding his head down to rest on Bucky’s shoulder. “I do, Loki. And I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere unless you make me.”

                Loki struggled for less than a second, and then let out a keening sob and collapsed into Bucky.  Bucky held him close, pressing kisses to his hair, stroking his back as Loki curled against his chest, tears soaking into Bucky’s ruffled shirt. Occasionally Bucky thought he could make out words like “sentimental” and “fool” and “insane human” but he was pretty sure these were good things. So he didn’t say anything more—he just soaked up every raw emotion that Loki was giving him, solid and steady. He hoped it would be enough.

                When Thor rose in the morning, he took the opportunity to explore his brother’s room. Steve had mentioned that Loki was staying in the room usually reserved for him, and there were clear signs of it—There were sketch books from the same brand that Steve had always used when the Avengers were together with some downtime, and the same charcoal pencils. However, there were signs now of his brother too. On the desk next to the scrap books rested a knife that he recognized as one of Loki’s favorites, with a whetstone and cloth. Battle boots kicked carelessly into the corner, a stack of leather-bound books that Loki must have rescued from Asgard or else had kept hidden away in a pocket dimension. Thor smiled—that Loki saw fit to leave even this much in place, rather than keeping them stored away at all times so he could fly at a moment’s notice, spoke to how at home he felt here.

                Thor dressed himself in his hoodie and left on his flannel sleep pants, following the sweet smell of breakfast out to the kitchen. To his surprise, Loki was at the stove, deftly flipping pancakes in one pan while pushing around scrambled eggs in the other. Bucky was at the table, a small but genuine smile on his face as he sipped at his coffee and idly flipped through the stack of UN papers Thor had brought, now heavily annotated in Loki’s elegant handwriting.

                “A late riser, as ever. You do know that the All-Father never slept in a day in his life.” Loki greeted with a raised eyebrow as he turned the stove off and began transferring the food to plates. “And I suppose you expect feeding too.”

                “Father made up for all his early rising with his Odin-sleep. I don’t think I’ve developed the ability yet, so the realm will have to forgive me the occasional late morning. And yes, brother, one generally feeds one’s guests.” Thor sat down across from Bucky, nodding his greeting.

                “That’s Loki’s seat.” Bucky said quietly, but his face told Thor he was teasing. _Protective and with a sense of humor_ , Thor thought approvingly. A good match for Loki, if his brother would be willing to take that plunge one last time.

                “I’m the King, Loki can find another seat.” Thor chuckled, then squawked when cold liquid was dumped over his head. Orange juice, by the looks of it. “Well, you can!” He turned his head to look at his brother, blinking rapidly to keep the acidic juice from his eyes.

                “I can indeed. And it will be a far nicer chair than you’ll ever sit in.” Loki sniffed as he laid out breakfast on the table then promptly transformed some couch cushions into a veritable throne. “Eat up, then, you have a lot of reading to do.” Loki indicated the stack of papers that Bucky had rescued from any orange juice splatter, looking at the messy table with dismay.

                “Why do you always have to make a mess where we eat?” The human asked plaintively.

                “Oh, this is nothing. You should have seen yesterday, Thor bled all over the table like an animal before I cleaned it up.” Loki dismissed as he wiped the table dry and set to eating his own breakfast.

                “What the fu—”

                “You’re the one who stabbed me!” Thor said indignantly.

                “And you bloody well deserved it, Thor. It’s your own fault that you sat there bleeding like an idiot as though it would just stop on its own. What happened to all those seasoned warrior instincts?” Loki patted Bucky’s hand. “I took extra care with cleaning up your space, no need to look so fretful, my—Bucky.”

                “I’d like a no stabbing people in the house rule, but I feel like that’s wishful thinking.” Bucky grumbled, but he passed his thumb quickly over Loki’s hand before the two parted to resume their meal. Thor scarfed down his pancakes and eggs quickly, and wanted more.

                “Thor, if you smash that plate on the ground I will stab you again.”

                “I wasn’t going to!” Thor argued. He really wasn’t, Tony had trained him out of the habit years ago… though he supposed Loki wouldn’t know that. The instinct may have still been within him, at any rate.

                “And if you want more, make it yourself.” Loki summoned an orange from the fruit bowl and set about peeling it. “We need more oranges.”

                “We can take Einar down to the fruit market.” Bucky said. “Family trip.”

                “You only want to sneak him treats.” Loki accused.

                “I wasn’t planning to be sneaky about it.” Bucky grinned and Loki smiled back. Thor looked between them again, pensive. This, whatever it was… it was interesting. It was good. And like all things with Loki, it held a great risk for falling apart dramatically.

                Hopefully, though, that could be dealt with later.

                Before Thor left the next day, laden down with fruits from Wakanda’s market (though Loki had not permitted him to take any of the oranges they bought), the UN papers thoroughly annotated and a brand-new speech to give, he asked Loki to walk with him.

                “I don’t usually say this, but you may want to give that speech your own flourish.” Loki said, nodding at it. “You’ve been negotiating for so long, surely they’ll notice when the words you speak are not your own.”

                “I’ll give it a test run with Steve and Tony.” Thor promised. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about before I left, brother.”

                “Funny, I am almost certain that I do not want to talk about it.” Loki said, but continued to keep pace with his brother. He could stab and poke all he wanted, but Thor could be as a dog with a bone… and in truth, Loki had come to rely on that. Thor could and would be angry with him, could learn not to trust him, could not speak to him for days (when they were younger, the longest either of them had managed to go without speaking was a week and a half. Everything had been so simple then.) but he could not and would not leave him alone. Even when he asked for it. Especially when he asked for it, Loki thought with some amusement.

                “Brother.” Thor turned so he was facing Loki as they walked. Norns, he was going to go all in on this, wasn’t he? “I am happy that you have found a friend in Barnes.”

                “So you’ve said.” Loki said cautiously. He really did not want to be having this conversation. He wanted to have this thing that he and Bucky had started to himself.

                “I just wanted you to know. Once New Asgard has been established, and you can come home… He is welcome to come with you.” Thor’s gaze was shrewd as he met Loki’s eyes, something that was becoming more common of late. Loki was torn between pride at his brother’s newfound perceptiveness, and exasperation with it.

                “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

                “Loki. I know that you do not need my permission, or my blessing.”

                “I certainly do not.”

                “But you have them. For as long as Bucky Barnes brings that peace to your eyes and that smile to your face, you have my blessing. Enthusiastically so.” They had stopped walking, and Thor reached out to cup the back of Loki’s neck. “I know I have not always been the brother you needed, and there are precious few people with whom you have a shared trust. My greatest wish is for us to be a family and rule Asgard together as we were always meant to… but that will mean little to me, if you are unhappy or lonely.”

                “Thor…” Loki squirmed in his brother’s grip. “This is really unnecessary.”

                “No, it is not. I need you to know that you can pursue this. And, honestly, I’d prefer to know if you do intend to pursue this. Because you and Barnes, well…” Thor let out a little laugh. “It may be Tony Stark’s worst nightmare. I expect I’ll have to spend some time calming him down.”

                “I see no need for you to mention it to him.”

                “Right away, no. But I remember how you were around… well, how you were in the past. I would not have you hide your love away, and I will certainly not have one of my friends plotting against you and your relationship. When it is time to come home, Stark will find out.”

                “You don’t even know that there is a relationship.” Loki refuted, finally pulling out of Thor’s grip. “You are being a mother hen when you should be focusing your energies elsewhere.”

                “Alright.” Thor held up his hands, his eye dancing. “I don’t know anything. I will be in contact when more news develops about Asgard.”

                “Good.” Loki crossed his arms and nodded at the trolley that would take Thor back to the capital. “Get going, then.”

                “And such a fond farewell.” Thor prepared to board the trolley, then leaned back towards Loki with a mischievous grin. “There is one thing I do know—mortals are fragile, Loki. Do try not to break him.”

                A knife flew past Thor’s ear, and he laughed before boarding the trolley, waving as he went. Loki shook his head and turned back towards home.

                “Thor get off alright?” Bucky asked when Loki found him brushing out Einar’s mane.

                “He’s fine, the oaf.” Loki looked for a long moment at Bucky, with his blue eyes and tanned skin, then looked at Einar, whose ears were pricked forward in greeting. Thor’s blessing should not matter. He’d never wanted one before, for any of his lovers or even for his wife. And yet…

                “Hey, you okay?” Bucky had that damnable, lovable look of concern on his face, and Loki felt something settle inside him. He stepped forward, took that beloved face in his hands, and kissed Bucky soundly. Einar whinnied happily as they parted.

                “I’m wonderful. You know… Thor said you and I might just be Tony Stark’s worst nightmare.” He kissed Bucky again.

                “Is that so?” Bucky said as he pulled back. “That’s probably true.”

                There was a note of melancholy in his voice, though his hand had dropped Einar’s brush to rub gently over Loki’s hip. Loki took the hand and kissed it.

                “There are worse things to be.” He comforted. “Besides, Stark is versatile. He’ll get over it.”

                “He’s gonna have to.” Bucky said, smiling now. “Because I’m not stopping.”

                Loki smiled back, confident for once in his answer. This is a chance he would take. Again and again, he thought, as long as Bucky stayed as solid and warm as he was now.

                “Neither am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor is such a bro, and Einar just ships it, okay? There are at most two more chapters left for this story- a fluff chapter possibly, and the actual resolution of what's going to happen when Asgard gets settled. Thanks for coming on this ride with me! Please leave a review!


	14. It's Not Easy Being Blue or Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a difference between absolution and understanding. Bucky draws some boundaries, Loki lets some down, and somehow they both stumble towards what they need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say two chapters left and that one was going to be fluffy? I think I might have lied. Thanks as always to Slicey for being my sounding board, and thanks to all of you for reading.

               A loud, angry shout broke through the silence of the small farmhouse, and Loki sprung up in bed. It was not the first time that one of Bucky’s nightmares had been fierce enough to waken him, but another shout and a bang was enough to get him moving down the hall, hastily pulling his Aesir skin into back into existence. He paused for a moment at Bucky’s door. This was not tradition. He always waited in the living room for Bucky, and Bucky for him. They had never gone into each other’s rooms. Even as close as they had become, they each desperately needed a private space. They’d never had to say it aloud, which was just something else Loki loved about Bucky. No need for awkward words, pointed hints. Bucky just knew.

                But surely now, now that they’d shared kisses and secrets, now that Bucky had given him his heart without fear… Loki could do this. Show his human the support and strength that had been shown to him. A whimper sounded from behind the door and Loki’s decision was made. He opened the door and slid in, immediately dodging Bucky’s wildly swinging fist. Bucky’s eyes were glazed over, clearly not fully awake… Loki gasped and ducked another punch, then winced as he caught a foot in the side, a firm reminder that Bucky was a super soldier just as much as Steve Rogers.

                “ _Missiya… missiya…_ ” Bucky moved with deadly grace and precision. This was… not Bucky. This was the Soldier. Loki dropped to the floor and deftly took out Bucky’s legs, then, with a prayer for Bucky’s forgiveness, slammed the heel of his palm into the man’s forehead.

                There were flashes of memory—a machine, a doctor, a metal arm roughly attached, a car forced off the road, snapped necks… _no._ It was too much. _Awake_ , Loki forcefully projects. _Awake, Bucky_. They both gasp and suddenly the Soldier is gone, and Bucky Barnes is laying panting on his floor, Loki’s hand at his forehead as the god hovered above him. They stared blinking at each other for a long moment, and then suddenly Bucky was pushing at him frantically.

                “Move, fuck, move!” Loki leaned back in time for Bucky turn and vomit. Loki watched silently, a hand hesitating behind hid heaving back. He cursed himself for not knowing what else to do but wait for Bucky to look at him again. After several moments of retching, Bucky sat up. Wordlessly, Loki cleaned up the mess, sitting back on his heels—close enough to touch, far enough that Bucky had space. Bucky sat breathing through his nose almost violently for several minutes, looking at the wall rather than at Loki.

                “Are you… alright?” Loki ventured at last. Bucky started, glancing at Loki sharply as though he’d forgotten the prince was there.

                “What… What happened? What did I do?” He asked, dread in his voice as he took in the disheveled appearance of both Loki and the room.

                “You did nothing.” Loki said firmly. “The Soldier decided to make an appearance from your nightmares. I dispatched him.”

                “How?”

                Loki was silent for a moment.

                “I took out your legs and forced you awake.” He said at last, hesitantly. “If you’re hurt, I can…”

                “No.” Bucky was looking him full in the face now with a look that Loki couldn’t quite identify. “I asked how. You… you had your hand on my head. You used magic. How did you wake me up? _What did you do?_ ”

                Loki jerked back from the intensity of it. Was this it? Was he so incapable of doing something right that even in his most well-meaning actions he caused pain to the one person on this miserable planet who deserve none of it?

                “ _Loki._ ”

                “I…” he began, “I touched your mind. I did not change anything therein, I swear it, I merely forced the Soldier back and called you forward.”

                “And what else?” Bucky sounded more tired than angry now, but he was holding himself so stiffly. Loki went to reach for him, but his hand came up between them. “Answer the question.”

                “I saw things.” Loki admitted, clasping his hands now over his knees. “Not a lot, and nothing I could make sense of. I wasn’t meaning to look, only… only to help. But I saw… flashes. From the Soldier. A white room, a doctor, a machine. A metal arm… a car crash.”

                Bucky jerked to a standing position, leaving Loki on the floor. Loki tried to keep his breathing even, to keep himself submissive, non-threatening. Kneeling still at Bucky’s feet.

                “You can’t… Loki, you can’t fucking do that, okay? That—that stuff, it’s mine. Mine to talk about or not talk about and not for anyone to look at. You can’t just… You should have shut the door when you saw me like that and waited in the damn living room, not gone poking around in my head.” Bucky was agitated now, pacing the few steps to the door and then spinning back around to look at Loki with frustration. Loki bowed his head, refusing to meet his gaze, ordering the tears away from his eyes. He was not some lovestruck maid. He would not cry in front of this man again. He would not let this break him more than he already had been broken.

                He should have known better than to expect anything better. It was a long time since he had been a positive force in a relationship. Since he’d been able to maintain one without causing more pain—even Thor suffered for his presence, though he had stubbornly learned to accept it. Loki could not expect the same of Bucky.

                “Loki… c’mon, get up.” Bucky half-ordered, sounding tired again. Loki climbed to his feet, his hands still clasped in front of him to stop them trembling.

                “I am so very sorry.” He murmured, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Truly, I am. I’ll not bother you further. I’ll not tell another soul.” He went to step around Bucky, intending to flee back to his room and throw his things back into one of his pocket dimensions. He could change into a raven or a horse, disappear for a while, wait for Thor to send for him. Maybe he could just go now, give Bucky his home back. Say goodbye to Einar and stay in disguise in New York. One way or another, he had to leave… and then Bucky grabbed his arm.

                “Wait.” Bucky tugged him around to face him. “I need you to listen to me. No, don’t look away, look at me and listen.”

                Loki forced himself into a royal composure. He straightened his shoulders, steeled his mind, and met Bucky’s eyes. With his hair wild and his lips pursed, he still seemed agitated. But there was a familiar softness in his eyes that allowed the smallest bit of hope to flutter in his chest.

                “I know that you were trying to help. I’m glad that you didn’t just let me beat you up, and I believe you when you say you weren’t looking to move things around in my head, okay? It’s just… I’ve had enough people poking around through my brain. So I’m saying, don’t do it again, unless you need to save a life or something. Do you understand?”

                “I… yes. You’re not angry.” Loki was searching Bucky’s eyes now, trying to smell out a lie, to see if Bucky was trying to placate him.

                “No, I’m… Look, I just had a spike of magic through my brain. But I know why you did it. I’m riled up, but I’m not angry at you.”

                “You don’t want me to leave, then?” Loki said in a rush, and Bucky gaped at him for a long moment before tugging him close, and then they were pressed together, with Bucky’s chin on his shoulder.

                “Never.” Bucky whispered, and Loki was vaguely ashamed to find himself clinging to his lover like a child. He rested his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder, taking deep breaths, comforting himself with his familiar scent. “Oh, _dorogoi_ …” Bucky smoothed his thumb across the nape of Loki’s neck, then pulled back. “We have work to do, don’t we?”

                “That is probably an understatement, for me.” Loki allowed himself to be led into the kitchen, and when Bucky released his hand he automatically reached for two glasses and filled them with water. He handed one to Bucky and they both went to the couch, sitting facing each other. Loki took a long sip. This felt normal.

                “I feel like I need to lay out some ground rules. I just want you to listen right now, alright? Listen and don’t let your head run away with you.” Bucky looked serious over the rim of his glass.  Loki swallowed and nodded, and Bucky continued. “First thing’s first—we’re gonna fuck up. Both of us will, because no one is perfect and you and me are especially… not great at this. But just because you make a mistake, it doesn’t mean that things are over between us or whatever was going through your head just now. I told you before, I didn’t fall for you halfway. You’re gonna have to do a lot worse to shake me off now.”

                Loki bit his lip to keep himself from speaking, from swearing that he did not want to do worse and that Bucky did not need to forgive him so easily. From suggesting that when “worse” did inevitably happen, Bucky should have no qualms about keeping himself safe from it and letting Loki spiral and crash, as was his wont of late.

                “Hey. I said don’t let your head run away with you.” Bucky nudged Loki’s knee with his own. “Listen to what I’m saying now. I am not angry at you. You scared me. You left me feelin’ a little raw. I know you didn’t mean to. All I’m asking is that you don’t go into my head again. Not like that. This is… this is real important to me, alright? I’m scrambled up enough already—you probably got that from when you were waking me up. The Soldier… I don’t know if that part of me will ever be completely gone. Now, I trust you to be able to handle it when… when what just happened happens. You’re tough enough to restrain me, and quick enough to get out of my way if that’s not possible. I’m also going to trust you to understand why I’m asking you not to do that… magic hand slam, or whatever it was to me again. Because that’s what loving someone is. It’s about trust. Nod your head if you understand that.”

                Loki nodded his head, staring at Bucky in wonder.

                “I also need you to trust me a little. Trust that I can handle it when you fuck up. Trust that I’m not like Odin, or whoever else it was that made you think like you do. I will not make you leave. A mistake isn’t the end of the world, Loki—it’s just a mistake. You learn from that, you grow from it. And we’ll do that together. I know it’s not easy, but…” Bucky set his glass on the floor and held out his hand to Loki. “I think we can handle it. Right?”

                Loki took the hand offered to him, turning it over and studying the calloused fingers. Then he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm, and then holding it close as he met Bucky’s eyes to nod his understanding again.

                “Okay. Good.” Bucky squeezed Loki’s hand. “You can talk now.”

                “I am sorry.” Loki said again. He frowned, studying their joined hands. “Trust is not something that comes easily to me. But I swear that I will never knowingly betray yours. And I… you said I left you feeling raw.”

                “Just shook up a bit.” Bucky comforted. “It doesn’t hurt.”

                “No, I know, it’s not… I wasn’t expecting…” Loki set his jaw, and looked up at Bucky, determined. “I saw things you did not want me to see. Things you don’t talk about. It seems only fair that I…”

                “Loki, you don’t have to do anything—”

                “I want to.” Loki cut across him. “I want to show you this. Because I trust you.” Closing his eyes, he let go of Bucky’s hand and allowed the glamour over him to fade away, let his pale, smooth skin fade into the ridged blue of a Frost Giant. He felt his nails lengthen slightly, curve into slight claws. Small horns just barely protruded from his hairline, and when he opened his eyes he knew they were red. “You’ve seen this once before. Now… now I will tell you what it means. And I am going to trust…” He swallowed, diverting his gaze from Bucky’s, concentrating on not letting any frost gather on the couch or floor. “I am going to trust you not to run away from me.”

                “ _Lyubimyy_ …” Bucky reached out to retake Loki’s hand, but Loki flinched away.

                “Don’t touch, I might hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” Loki sat straight backed on the couch, staring at the blank television screen. “You said that you thought turning blue was normal for someone from space. I let you think so because the truth… it’s not pleasant. What I am, what I’ve done because of it… You deserve to know.” He raised a blue hand before Bucky could interrupt him again. “This is important to me.”

                “Alright, _dorogoi_. I’m listening.”

                “The truth is, I’m not an Asgardian. Not by birth. I am born of another realm, a place called Jotunheim. It is the world of the Jotnar—the Frost Giants. When I told you Odin was not my father… it is not only out of spite for him. My true father was Laufey, the Jotun king. Only…” Loki’s hands tightened around his water glass, frost slowly creeping across the water within. “I was born small. Too small. Jotunheim and Asgard were at war, and Laufey abandoned me in a temple, a sacrifice to their gods in exchange for success in battle. But apparently…” And here Loki shrugged, let out a huff that might have been a laugh if there were anything in this story to laugh about. “The Jotun gods were unimpressed with such a runt. Asgard was victorious, and Odin found me, abandoned and too small. He had come for the Casket of Ancient Winters, a weapon that only Frost Giants could wield, and he thought he might take me as well. He cast a powerful spell over me, changing me to appear Asgardian. It wasn’t perfect, of course—I remain more slender than your typical Aesir male, and I cannot for the life of me grow a beard—but it took, and held for centuries. Thor and I were raised as brothers.”

                “He never told you.” It wasn’t a question. Bucky’s voice was heavy with something Loki could not quite identify.

                “No. I lived my life in Thor’s shadow, longing for the respect and pride that was so freely given to him, Asgard’s golden son. My… The All-Father would walk with both of us, when we were younger. He’d say that while only one of us would sit on the throne of Asgard, we were both meant to be kings. It was like a competition between Thor and I, to see who the All-Father would deem worthy. I only recently realized that he was referring to my true heritage. I was never meant to be king of Asgard.”

                “Did you want to be?”

                “I don’t think I did, not at first.” Loki placed his iced over glass on the floor so he could clasp his hands together. “I wanted to be Thor’s equal. We’d all accepted that Thor would be king—I did not think he was ready for it, because my brother was spoiled and brash, and not well versed in politics and diplomacy. He preferred to skip those lessons and go out drinking and hunting with his friends. But nonetheless, we thought that if he would be king, then I would sit at his right hand. He would be the warrior king and fight Asgard’s battles, make the speeches and host the feasts, and I would manage trades and dealings with anyone the two of us did not completely trust. And then when I had my family, for that short while, all thoughts of the throne left my mind. I was content with what I had. After I lost Narfi, though… and then Sleipnir a hundred years later, I became… less content. But that is not what matters.”

                “Isn’t it?”

                “Not for this story. No, what matters is that on the day Thor was meant to be coronated, I tricked a couple of Jotuns into following the secret paths and entering Asgard’s vault. My intent was to disrupt the coronation—I knew that the Jotuns would be easily killed, and that Thor would be sufficiently angry about his special day being ruined that he’d throw a tantrum and perhaps the All-Father would put it off a couple of years. It all went as predicted. Thor insisted on us going to Jotunheim with four of his friends, against the All-Father’s orders. He claimed he was just looking for answers, but in truth he was spoiling for a fight. We were not supposed to make it to Jotunheim—I’d told a guard Thor’s plan in secret, and Odin was supposed to stop us going and maybe throw Thor in the dungeon for a day or two. I didn’t want to go, I was terrified of Frost Giants.”

                “Terrified?”

                “Yes. They were the monsters are nurses told us about at night, that would eat us if we were not good. They were savages who could carry off naughty children, who probably ate their own. Big, scary, ugly things. There was a branch outside my nursery window when I was very young, and I used to think it was a Frost Giant come to get me at night and I’d have to crawl into Thor’s bed to feel safe again.” Loki shot a self-deprecating smile at Bucky, revealing his fanged canines. “Thor would always promise to kill every Frost Giant he saw. Ironic how safe that once made me feel. At any rate, the situation on Jotunheim devolved quickly, Thor’s temper getting the better of him. We fought them there, and I learned two things. The first was that a Jotun could cause severe frostbite with only a touch to Asgardian flesh. The second was… that the first thing did not apply to me. A Frost Giant grabbed me, and I was not injured. Instead, my hand changed to this…” Loki held up his blue ridged hand. “You can imagine how startled I was, how frightened. I wondered if my magic had somehow acted without my knowledge, saving me from injury. But when I confronted Odin about it… I learned the truth. I was no prince of Asgard, but instead a stolen relic, a piece for Odin to play as he willed to force Jotunheim to fall into line with Asgard. I think someday he wanted me to be his puppet king there. I will never know now.”

                “That’s… what happened then?”

                “I’d just found out I was a monster. So, I suppose… I started acting like one.” Bit by painful bit, Loki related the rest of his story. How when Odin had fallen into his Odin-sleep, he’d rightfully been made king, only to be immediately subverted by Thor’s friends when he would not recall Thor from his exile. How he’d been increasingly agitated, filled with self-loathing… how he’d thought he could win Odin’s love and trust if he killed Laufey and destroyed Jotunheim, to show that no matter where he’d been born, he was Odin’s son and Asgard’s prince through and through. How he’d made sure to let Laufey infiltrate as far as the king’s sleeping chamber before he murdered him, and how his mother had been proud of him saving Odin’s life. And then, his intent to use the Bifrost to destroy Jotunheim, his fight with Thor, and then the bridge...

                “And suddenly, there I was, dangling off the rainbow bridge, only my and Thor’s grip on Gungnir keeping me from falling. And just as it seemed we may both go over the edge, Odin appeared, awakened from his slumber. I looked at him, and at Thor, and I just… I wanted their approval. It was not so long ago, it seemed to me, that Thor was intent on destroying the Frost Giants. I told the All-Father that I could have done it, finished it for all of us… but he looked down at me and only said ‘No, Loki.’ And it all seemed to come crashing down all over again. I let go of the staff and I fell into the abyss. I did not expect to live.”

                “I’m glad you did.” Bucky was close now, not touching, but with his hand in a position that told Loki he wanted to.

                “You’re glad? I just told you I’m a secret monster who tried to commit genocide and you’re glad I survived it?” Loki laughed in disbelief.

                “I am.” Bucky then shifted to press up against Loki, who tried to squirm away. “Relax. You’re not hurting me, look.”

                Loki looked. Gooseflesh had erupted along Bucky’s arm, but otherwise he seemed to be suffering no ill effects. Loki watched in fascination as Bucky’s tan hand enveloped his blue one, tracing the ridges on it.

                “You’re kind of cold. But you’re not hurting me, because you don’t want to.” Bucky raised his hand to Loki’s chin, forcing the prince to look at him.

                “I can’t tell you that it’s all alright. I don’t think that’s even what you want to hear. But honestly, if I was raised like you were and found out a secret like that? I probably wouldn’t have many fine moments either. I mean, you said yourself that Thor was on board with genocide too before he was grounded here on Earth. And those were your people, in a way. You must have been scared out of your mind, and furious besides. With all you’ve been through, I’m kind of amazed that you’re sitting here with me now.” Loki frowned, a fanged tooth worrying at his lip. “Look, I’m not offering you absolution. It’s not my place, it’s not something I can give. All I can give you is understanding.” Bucky began tracing his fingers along the raised lines on Loki’s face. “Do these lines mean something?”

                “I believe they are clan lines. I would have inherited them from my birth mother, but I’ve never met her, or known her name. I did not want to know.” Loki allowed Bucky to explore, now that he knew it would not harm the human. He held carefully still as Bucky passed his fingers over the horns, over the retracted ears hidden beneath his hair. Finally he came to Loki’s indigo lips, and traced them too.

                “Can I kiss you?” Bucky murmured.

                “You… you want to kiss me? Looking like this, after what I just told you?”

                “I do. Guess I’m kind of a twisted guy.” Bucky grinned and leaned in, stopping just short of sealing their lips together.

                “No more twisted than I am.” Loki said, and sighed as their lips pressed together. He pulled back after a moment. “I would like to change back now. I… I don’t like being like this.”

                “Do whatever makes you comfortable, doll. As long as you know you don’t have to.”

                Loki smiled and pulled his Asgardian glamour on like a glove, relaxing almost completely once the transformation was complete. He felt… laid bare, but it was not as bad a feeling as he’d thought.

                “You know you didn’t have to tell me all of that stuff.”

                “I did have to. For me, if not for you. You said we needed work.” Loki squirmed his way under Bucky’s arm, resting his head over his heart. “You deserve to know what my worst is.”

                “And now I know. At your worst, you tried to destroy a world. At your best, you saved one. At your worst, you’d had your whole life turned inside out and upside down. At your best… from what I understand, you could have made another call. Stayed safe somewhere. But you didn’t. You went and fought for your people, and for your brother. And then you came here, and you’re still doing the same thing. People don’t get second chances so often, and you’re doing all you can with yours. If I had to pick a side to judge your character on… it would be the one that brought you here to me.” Bucky pressed a kiss to Loki’s head. “Just remind me to keep you away from planet destroying machines when you’re mad.”

                Loki laughed and tilted his head up to kiss Bucky properly. Bucky returned the kiss eagerly, allowing Loki to press him back on the couch. Loki’s arms bracketed Bucky’s head, holding himself up as he kissed a line down his neck, nibbling along his clavicle. He grinned against tanned skin as Bucky groaned, his hand rubbing up and down Loki’s spine. He lowered himself to lay on top of Bucky completely, running one of his hands from the human’s shoulder, down his arm to his hand, tangling their fingers together as he rested there, content as a kitten. Bucky’s thumb began that familiar motion over Loki’s knuckles, and Loki closed his eyes, letting his head rise and fall with each breath Bucky took. They lay like that for a long while.

                “Hey, doll…” Bucky said eventually. Loki raised an eyebrow—these pet names seemed to be just spilling out of Bucky’s lips tonight. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever been compared to a doll before. “You said that when you did that… that magic palm thing that you saw a car accident.”

                Loki tensed for a second, but when Bucky did not let go of his hand or try to nudge him off, he relaxed again.

                “I did, yes. Only a flash of one, really.”

                “It wasn’t an accident.”

                “I’d surmised as much.” Loki said gently, bringing Bucky’s fingers to his lips. “It was one of the Soldier’s memories.”

                “We’re not really different people, you know. The Soldier… he’s part of me now. And yeah, it’s a memory the Soldier was awake for. He was driving the bus, so to speak. But it was still… I was there too.”

                “I think I might understand the feeling.” Loki murmured.

                “I want to tell you about it. And I don’t want you to tell me it wasn’t my fault. Shuri and Steve do that enough.”

                Loki went to sit up, but Bucky tightened his grip on his hand, so he settled back down and nodded against Bucky’s chest.

                “Thor said you and I together would be Tony Stark’s worst nightmare. That car crash is why.”

                “I knew Howard, back in the forties. He’s the one that made Steve’s shield, you know. He was a piece of work, but he was also a good guy. A bit of a mad scientist, but mad science helped make Stevie into Captain America. He used to hang out with us and the Howlies.” Bucky stared straight up at the ceiling as he told the story, trying to focus on the comforting weight of Loki’s body on him. “Get a few drinks in him and he was a fun guy. Peggy wanted to deck him in the face half the time, but even she used to laugh. Steve used to pick him up and put him some place high up when he got to rowdy.” Bucky snorted. “And you know, Howie actually got a kick out of that. And so did Steve. When we were off the battlefield, he was just… so damn happy to be able to do things like that.”

                Loki hummed, and Bucky could feel the vibrations on his chest. He raised his hand to play with the ends of Loki’s hair, using the distraction to gather himself.

                “When I fell, and I got turned into… _became_ the Winter Soldier, they kept me in and out of cryo. Kept wiping my memory, over and over again, but there was always a part of me that stayed, I think. Because I remember now, how it felt… I told you, I killed Tony Stark’s parents. And that’s horrible, it sucks, and it’s not fair to him. It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, not by a long shot, the Soldier has a body count you wouldn’t believe… but it feels like the worst thing.” Bucky felt his voice crack and tears build up in his eyes. “Because I knew him. I never got to meet Maria, but I knew Howie. And sometimes when I remember it, when I remember killing them, I think Howard must have recognized me, there at the last minute. And then… he begged me not to kill his wife. And the thing is, I didn’t have to. She wasn’t my mission, just him. But she was a witness. And I wasn’t supposed to leave witnesses, I was supposed to be a ghost. So I used that metal arm you saw to snap her neck.”

                Tears dripped down Bucky’s cheeks as he rubbed at Loki’s back. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but it was a losing battle. Because he could still _see_ it, every moment of his own hands killing a friend, and an innocent woman who’d done nothing wrong except for being in the car. Loki snuggled further into him, kissing his bereft shoulder, but still said nothing. Bucky couldn’t help but be grateful for that—if Loki spoke now, he’d shatter.

                “So, that’s how they died. Howard Stark was a danger to Hydra. Maria Stark was collateral damage. And then, when I had to face their son… I nearly killed him too. Except, that time I wasn’t the Soldier. It was just me. Me and Stevie, beating the shit out of this guy who’d just found out his parents were murdered. And I knew… I know that it wasn’t that simple. Stark would have killed me, probably. Blasted that damn arm right off. And Steve, he was just trying to protect me. And I think he was trying to protect Stark too, by not telling him what I’d done right away. Steve says he was trying to spare himself from having to do what he did, but that’s not all. He doesn’t have a selfish bone in his body, not like that. But it all became such a mess.”  Bucky broke off with a sniffle.

                “The things one does to survive… they can be terrible things.” Loki said at last. “Unforgiveable things, even.” The prince raised his head from Bucky’s chest to look at his face, raising a slender hand to wipe tears away. “You’ve got red in your ledger. And maybe you can’t ever wipe it out.”

                “Feels like all I’ve got is red sometimes. A bunch of red in my ledger, and a few wack jobs who somehow managed to convince themselves its not really there. You’re the first one who’s said…” Bucky broke off with a gasp that barely contained a sob.

                “We aren’t so different.” Loki murmured. “There is no absolution, only understanding. And then moving on. We cannot change the past, but you told me only a few minutes ago that second chances are a rare thing. We’ve both gotten one, somehow. And maybe, one day, there will be enough good things in our books that the blood does not seem to bleed through every page any longer. I don’t know that it’s possible for me—I am a creature of chaos, even at my best. But you, Bucky Barnes…” Bucky raised his head to meet Loki’s kiss. “I can think of no one who has a better chance to re-write himself. You have so much light in you, my love. I can only hope that when you let it shine off of you at last, I might catch some of the rays.”

                Bucky gave a trembling smile, and pulled Loki in to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flangst. Flangst is what I'm good at. But I think they're done being Angsty Boys for a bit. I'd say how many chapters are left, but I apparently have no control over that. I swear I'm winding down though. Really. See you on the flip side!


	15. A Chance To Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Einar wants breakfast, Bucky wants boundaries, and Loki and Shuri discuss Star Wars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the fluff I promised last week to make up for the flangst! Thanks as always to Slicey for being my sounding board, as well as to everyone else in the Marvel Shipyard.

 

                Einar was, contrary to popular belief, not a very patient horse. He had a routine now, and he liked routines. The sun would begin to rise, it’s rays stretching from the horizon and into the field, and Einar would heft himself to his feet and begin to root around for sweet grass to chew on until Tricksy-Friend-Loki and Hurt-Friend-Bucky came to give him his breakfast.

                Of course, he could get his breakfast himself. He knew where the bag of feed was, and he was quite sure that a good tug would spill it all open for him, but Hurt-Friend-Bucky did not like mess, and both of his friends liked to care for him. And Einar enjoyed being cared for.

 When he was a younger horse, his purpose had been to serve his humans. They’d called him Dally then, and when he served them well they would feed him a sugar cube. They tended to him for a time, but then his joints started to hurt and he was unable to serve them. They set him loose then, and another horse eventually came to his stable. So off he’d gone, no longer lurking around the farmstead he’d been raised on. He thought he would die quietly, with dignity in the mountains, and that was where he’d been heading when he first saw Hurt-Friend-Bucky struggling to balance a great piece of wood on his shoulder. Einar had walked to him and helped him find his balance, and Hurt-Friend-Bucky had given him a smile and a scratch behind his ears, and Einar knew then he’d found a new human to care for. Then Tricksy-Friend-Loki came, and everything got so much better. Einar could speak to his people now, and they spoke to him! And Hurt-Friend-Bucky learned to ride him, while Tricksy-Friend-Loki would rungallopfly beside him, and he felt young again. But there was a problem now.

                The problem was that the sun had risen high above the horizon, and the birds were twittering about, and his friends had not come for his breakfast yet. This would not do, because sometimes breakfast would be accompanied by a slice of apple or a carrot, and these were things that Einar could not get for himself. And then they were meant to play together, to run around the field or maybe even to the paddock where the uppity rhinos were keeping the melons. Einar supposed he could walk to the paddock himself—he knew the way well enough. But he could not communicate with those humans, not without Tricksy-Friend-Loki to translate.

                He hoped they were not at odds again, his friends. For humans (well, Tricksy-Friend-Loki was _not_ human, but he looked enough like one) they could be very dense. Einar supposed it was their way—humans always made things overly complicated, they lacked horse sense. And now, it seemed, it was getting in the way of his breakfast. Einar looked at his shadow on the ground. It was shaped like it would be when Tricksy-Friend-Loki was brushing his mane, which happened after breakfast and before running. Well, there was nothing for it. Einar would go over to the house and see what was keeping them.

                He trotted across the field, tail swishing to slap away those naughty biting flies. Tricksy-Friend-Loki had told him once that he had changed his shape into one of those flies. A fly! Could you imagine? When one could be anything, a human, a horse, a bird… the man had chosen a fly. Einar had told him not to do such a thing around him, or else he might get lost amongst the other flies and dealt a fine swat with his tail.

                He came to the door and nudged it with his nose. It did not budge. That was fine. His ears pricked forward and he picked up the sounds of voices. Both of their voices, though there were no words he could understand. That was fine too, sometimes they made precious little sense. He followed the sounds over to a window and shoved his face against the glass. Inside, Hurt-Friend Bucky gave a startled yelp.

                Good, they were awake.

                Loki and Bucky had stayed awake long into the wee hours of the morning, sometimes talking, sometimes merely holding each other and letting the silence wash over them. Eventually, Bucky had suggested they go to bed. Loki had reluctantly stood up and watched Bucky walk down the hall to his room, only for Bucky to pause halfway down the hall and look over his shoulder.

                “You coming?” He’d asked casually, and Loki’d scrambled to catch up with him.

                Holding each other on a mattress was far more comfortable than on a sofa. Loki had run his fingers along Bucky’s arm, which was wrapped around his waist, until his lover had fallen asleep at last. After a few more moments of absorbing the warmth between them and the steady sound of Bucky’s breath, he’d fallen asleep as well.

                Waking up with Bucky beside him had been something Loki would never forget.

                “I could get used to this.” Bucky mumbled against Loki’s throat, where he’d been suckling lightly on the skin there. Loki hummed in approval, threading one hand through Bucky’s hair and arching his neck to allow more access. Bucky rolled over, one leg sliding between Loki’s own and lazily rolling their hips together. It was so easy, so simple to let Bucky hover over him, to lead him down the path to pleasure. Loki let his hands roam, stroking Bucky’s sleep-warm back, passing over his bum and pressing them together with a groan.

                “There are certainly worse ways to wake up.” Loki agreed, pulling Bucky’s face to his for a kiss.

                “Mmm, _dorogoi_ , I have morning breath.” Bucky instead buried his face back in Loki’s neck, nosing the collar of his shirt aside to trace soft kisses along his clavicle. Loki laughed softly, unable to contain his own joy.

                “Must be a human failing.” He rucked up Bucky’s sleep shirt to run his hands over warm skin, passing over scars and strong muscle. Bucky shivered under his touch and rolled his hips faster against Loki’s, his breath coming faster now. Suddenly Bucky’s hand went beneath Loki’s thigh, tugging his leg up and around his hip. Loki eagerly obliged, and then Bucky’s hand all but slammed down next to the prince’s head, holding him up as he rocked more forcefully against Loki. Loki dragged his lover’s head down for another fierce kiss, morning breath be damned, moaning into his mouth, warmth building in the pit of his stomach. He reached down between them, beginning to tug Bucky’s pants lower when there was a sudden bang near the window, and then Bucky yelped and rolled straight off the mattress, landing on the floor with a thump.

                “Son of a _bitch_ ,” The human groaned, and Loki turned his head towards the window, which was suddenly filled with Einar’s head.

                _It is past time for breakfast._

                Loki let his head fall back on the pillows and laughed out loud, stretching out on the mattress as Bucky sat up from his spot on the floor, his kiss swollen lips shaped into a pout.

                “I suppose we’ve stayed abed longer than usual. Selfish of us, wasn’t it, love?” Loki shot a grin at Bucky, who was grumbling and readjusting his pants.

                “I can’t believe I’m gonna have to have the boundaries talk with a horse.”

                _You should not attempt to mate during breakfast time. It’s rude._

                Bucky gaped at the horse, who let out a wheeze and turned away, his tail slapping the window as he passed it. Loki’s chuckles were renewed, and he rolled to face Bucky, laughing even harder at his dismayed face.

                “Laugh it up, doll, go ahead.” Bucky grumbled, lurching to his feet. “I’ll go put the soup on.”

                “And I shall see to Einar.” Loki also rose, still grinning, and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. He left Bucky brewing the first pot of Breakfast Soup, and led Einar back to his shed for his breakfast.

                “You’ll have to make it up to Bucky you know. He was enjoying himself.”

                _So were you._ Einar nudged Loki’s shoulder. _I am happy for you. Finally got some horse sense._

                “Not what I would call it, but thank you.”

                _Thank me with breakfast._

                Bucky game out to join them before long, holding mugs of Breakfast soup and with apples and oranges in his pockets. He took his usual seat once Loki relieved him of one of the mugs and the three of them stayed for ages laughing together. Einar kept trying to root around Bucky’s pockets for an apple, and Bucky kept shooing him away, saying there were places Einar should learn to keep his nose out of. Loki magicked the apple out of his pocket, slicing it in half and tossing it to Einar.

                “Loki, we have to be consistent with him, doll.” Bucky complained.

                “Oh hush, it’s like you’ve never been interrupted by a horse before.”

                “… You _have_?”

                Loki bared his teeth in his sharky grin but didn’t say anything else.

                _If you spent some time as a horse, Hurt-Friend-Bucky, you might be more flexible._

                “Don’t you start, you couldn’t have waited another half-hour for breakfast?” Bucky was scowling, but he stood to start brushing out Einar’s mane.

                _Breakfast is important._ Einar wheezed, and Loki began laughing again in response.

                “Yeah, yeah, you’re a couple of chuckleheads. We need to have a chit-chat about when it is and isn’t okay to slam your head into my window, buddy.”

                _As you wish._

                Just after lunch, while Bucky watched Einar prance and play with Loki’s horse form, Shuri came strolling up to their home. She took a seat beside Bucky on his hay bale, watching the two horses.

                “How is my favorite White Boy?” She asked, as she always did. Bucky smiled, nudging her shoulder fondly.

                “Pretty great, actually. And how is her royal highness?”

                “I’ve told you not to call me that.” Shuri laughed, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s. “So what is different?”

                “Who says anything is different?”

                “You did. You said “pretty great,” and usually you just say alright.” She eyed Bucky with a grin, shoving him as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t go denying it, Bucky Barnes.”

                “I have a question for you.” Bucky said in lieu of an answer.

                “Answer mine first!”

                “How safe do you think I am?”

                Shuri frowned at him for a moment, but he kept his eyes on the two horses playing in the field.

                “Are you asking how safe you are, yourself? Or how safe others are to be around you?” She ventured at last.

                “The second one. If they didn’t know me.”

                “I would say as safe as any soldier returned from war with Post Traumatic Stress.” Shuri said after a moment. “We’ve broken your triggers down to dust, as much as we can. The rest of your recovery, no one can predict. It’s not the sort of thing I can measure with my machines. But I would not say you are a great risk to anyone’s safety.”

                “The Winter Soldier is still with me, though.” Bucky’s lips tugged down in a grimace.

                “What happened?” Shuri was facing him completely now, and Bucky finally looked her in the face.

                “Had a nightmare, and the Soldier woke up before I did. Loki was there, he handled it. Wasn’t fun, though.”

                “How long did it take him to wake you?” Shuri asked gently, her dark hand covering his gently.

                “You’d have to ask him, but not long. He did something—not something he’ll do again.” Bucky was quick to add when Shuri’s face became more alarmed. “He meant well, and he did wake me up, but he knows now not to magic my brain. Anyway, it happened. We talked it out. And even before the magic thing, he was able to physically subdue me while I was in kill mode. So I know I’m pretty safe with him. Just wondering about other people. You know, if I was somewhere with more—what do you call it? Stimuli.”  Bucky pulled his hand from under Shuri’s and rubbed at his bereft shoulder, feeling that phantom ache.

                “Are you planning on leaving us?” Shuri asked lightly.

                “Dunno. Might be somewhere else someday, might not. I just want to know how possible you think it is.”

                “When you say ‘somewhere else’ are you meaning somewhere with your friend Steve, or are you maybe referring to the New Asgard settlement?” When Bucky was silent, Shuri gave a small smile. “Is this what has changed ‘alright’ to ‘great’?”

                “Might be. Look, I’m not sure what’s going to happen, okay? I know there’s a whole legal mess surrounding Asgard, a different one surrounding Loki, and that’s not even touching the mess surrounding me. But I know when Thor sends for him, he’ll go.”

                “And you would go with him?” Shuri asked.

                “If he’ll have me, yeah. We’ll take Einar and go.” He sighed. “Go ahead, I know you want to.”

                “I KNEW IT!” Shuri exploded, and hugged Bucky tightly. “It’s just like in the stories. One minute you’re roommates, the next you’re ‘good friends’ and now…”

                “And now.” Bucky conceded to her excitement, giving a little grin as his heart swelled just thinking about the kisses he and Loki had shared that morning.

                “You like him—wait, no. You looooooooooooooove him!” Shuri was slapping his shoulder in excitement.

                “I do.” Bucky said with a quiet smile. “And that’s why I need to know the answer to my question.” Shuri quieted, but her grin stretched from ear to ear.

                “You lived two years on your own before you came to us, Bucky Barnes, and that was with all your triggers active. You lived quietly and harmed no one until they came for you.” Shuri’s voice was warm and filled with a strange sort of pride “Now, many of your triggers have been broken down. And, if you’re thinking of New Asgard as your new living space—I believe they are more durable than humans anyway. It’s your strength that makes you dangerous when the Soldier appears, but I believe any of them could match you long enough for you to come back to yourself. Even if you had both arms. I would like to do some more scans, though. See what this magic of Loki’s did, just in case.”

                “He didn’t hurt me.” Bucky was quick to defend. “He was trying to help, I just…”

                “You did not want someone else in your head.” Shuri nodded. “I know you have trouble enough with my scans.”

                “That was more at the beginning, I don’t mind so much anymore. You’re a good kid, you know.”

                “And don’t you forget it!” Shuri said as Loki and Einar approached them at last.

                “Hello, Shuri.” Loki said, and Shuri looked up, startled at the higher voice, to find a woman clad in riding clothes walking next to Einar.

                “Oh! Hello to you too.” Shuri said, and watched with a vague sense of glee as Bucky immediately stood and offered his seat to Loki.

                “Bucky, you’re doing it again.” Loki said, but sat primly upon the bale of hay.

                “You can’t stop me from being a gentleman, _dorogoya_.” Bucky said.

                _Tricksy-Friend-Loki felt softsweetmotherspirit._ Einar said matter-of factly, snuffling along Shuri’s tightly braided hair.  

                “I can see that.” Shuri gently pushed Einar’s nose out of her hair. She looked at Loki and sighed. “I wish this was something you could teach us. I know several people who would be much happier if they could change their bodies as you can.”

                “It’s something we can work on, in the future. This realm is not without its own sorcerers, so humans must have some way of channeling magic. I think we could at least find out if it is possible for a human to cast a glamour, if not outright transform. Though I will say, a glamour is not quite the same.” Loki picked at the hay beneath her with manicured fingers. “With a glamour, you are still very much aware of what lies beneath it. And, there are times when I still feel wrong no matter what shape I take. But at this moment, what you see… this is me. Entirely.”

                “Belle of the ball and all.” Bucky said with a smile and a kiss pressed to Loki’s rosy cheek. Loki smiled and turned her head to peck his lips, causing Shuri to clap her hands.

                “Brother owes me a trip to Disney for this, I have to pick which one.” Shuri said excitedly. Bucky groaned, but Loki merely looked curious.

                “I thought Disney was the person that made the cartoon Bucky showed me. The one with the gnomes and the poisoned apple.”

                “They’re dwarves, doll.” Bucky reminded as he stroked Einar’s neck. “Not gnomes.”

                “Dwarves don’t look like that.” Loki said with authority, then turned back to Shuri. “So Disney is also a place.”

                “There are theme parks all over the world, with rides and experiences like you see in the movies! They hire staff to dress and act like the characters—all the princesses! And they own Star Wars as well, so there are characters from there, too as well as some other things. The different locations have a lot of the same attractions, but also many things that are different.” Shuri explained. “

                “Ah. We have watched Star Wars, I found most of the movies to be enjoyable in some respects—though honestly, quick travel through space is nothing like that. Leia, Han and Lando are the kind of people humans should aspire to be.” Loki relaxed, her body posture more often as it often was when she was feeling more feminine.

                “No love for Luke?” Shuri asked as Bucky rolled his eyes.

                “Luke is a bit predictable.” Loki dismissed. “Reminds me too much of my brother. Lunging into things with scarcely any forethought! And he chooses his mentors poorly.”

                “He didn’t have much choice.” Bucky pointed out. With a final pat, he sent Einar off to graze and settled on the hay bale, pulling Loki into his lap to make room. She was shorter today than she’d been last time she’d changed her body, and some animalistic part of Bucky preened with pleasure when she fit perfectly against his chest. “Obi-Wan was all he had. And he wasn’t a bad guy, per se… but I’ll give you that ‘certain point of view’ thing was Grade-A bullshit.”

                “Ah, I read that George Lucas had not planned out Vader’s identity when he made the first movie.” Shuri said. “Once it was revealed, they had to retroactively have Obi-Wan know about it, but not be a liar. That is the reason for that line. But you are right, in universe it’s off.” Shuri explained, watching with interest as Loki relaxed into Bucky’s embrace, idly twining what seemed to be a small cloud through and around her fingers.

                “Poor planning, then. But then there’s Yoda.”

                “Oh no, you cannot hate on Master Yoda! He is a wise old muppet.” Shuri protested. Her voice softened. “There was a man once. Zuri. He was like an uncle for T’Challa and me, and he was our shaman. Yoda reminded me of him very much.”

                “Would he have rather died than tell… oh.” Loki stopped and leaned forward to rest a hand on Shuri’s shoulder. “Forgive me. This man was important to you, and he is gone. I’m afraid such morbid jokes are in my nature, but I did not wish to upset you, child. I am certain Zuri is very worthy of such fond remembrance.”

                Shuri blinked back tears and nodded, covering Loki’s pale hand with her own. Bucky rubbed his thumb over Loki’s hip, his heart throbbing with something like pride. In some ways, Loki seemed more perceptive when she presented as a woman, but Bucky was also fairly sure she would not have bothered with the apology when she first arrived months ago.

                “Thank you.” Shuri said at last, then mustered a smile for Loki. “Did you have someone who reacted in such a way? Like in the movie, would rather go to sleep than talk about something? That is the joke you were making, yes?”

                “Yes.” Loki leaned back onto Bucky again. “Odin-All Father fell rather dramatically into his Odin-sleep—that is, the regenerative sleep he required every few centuries—rather than fully discuss the matter of my, ah, adoption with me. And then he quite literally _did_ die rather than tell Thor and I the full truth about our sister, our history, and Ragnarok.” Loki resumed twining the miniature cloud through her fingers. “Communication was never a strong point in our family.”

                Shuri’s brows stretched up towards her hairline, and when it became apparent that Loki was not joking, let out a heavy breath.

                “Well, that is something, to be sure. Now come, let’s go inside, I want to see what effect you magic has had on Bucky’s brainwaves.”

                Bucky gave Loki a squeeze as they rose, so she would know it was alright.

                “Another fun-filled afternoon with beads around my head.” He said lightly, and once Loki smiled at him, they followed Shuri inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Einar, you cock blocker. But I had a rating to keep in mind, you know? Also the Star Wars conversation sort of just happened, idk. Shuri does what she wants. The next chapter might be the last? Or it might be the second to last. Promises, promises... please leave a review!


	16. Never Be Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makeover: Shuri and Loki style. There is also dinner, flying food, and a top hat involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I split the last chapter in two, because I feel bad about being late. This is part one, it's mostly fluff n stuff. Thanks as always to Slicey for making Einar happy and healthy.

         As it turned out, there seemed to be no lasting effect from Loki’s magic on Bucky’s brain, though Shuri was endlessly fascinated, as always, with what she did find. For a moment, Bucky thought Loki looked almost jealous as she studied Shuri’s machines doing their work, but then their eyes met and her face relaxed. When Shuri packed up her instruments after issuing Bucky a “clean-ish” bill of mental health, Loki invited her into the living room to continue discussing her findings. Bucky busied himself with making an early supper for the three of them—outside of knowing how dangerous he may or may not be, he preferred not to discuss what had happened to and was continuing to happen in his brain. Looking into it anymore, he thought, would just increase his anxieties. Once he got an idea of what _might_ be happening, he would see it everywhere. So let Shuri gather her data, and Steve absorb every tiny piece of news like a particularly determined sponge so he could feed it through that Sam guy. This was one thing Bucky was okay not knowing.

         Setting the stew to simmer, he returned to the living room to find Shuri braiding Loki’s long, silky hair in an intricate pattern, Loki’s tiny cloud hovering above them, occasionally taking a shape and flying around the room. Bucky grinned, leaning against the entryway—Loki’s magic was another thing that he’d noticed changed with her gender. It seemed to flow differently, more like a gently meandering river around her rather than the vibrating energy field that seemed to roll off of a more masculine Loki… but Bucky could never make the mistake of doubting that the power behind both magic and body remained the same. Certainly not after he’d seen her toss her brother around the shed.

         “If Asgard has ceremonial braiding as well, why do you and your brother wear none?” Shuri was saying as she began to twine sets of braids together.

         “Thor did, before he sadly lost his luscious locks.” Loki tilted her head up at Shuri to share a grin with her. “It happened when we were on Sakaar. He was an absolute ninny about it.”

         “Brothers and their pride.” Shuri sighed. “But you don’t keep any?”

          “Once.” Loki said. “I kept a sorcerer’s braid, and love locks for my former wife. The latter… well, I daresay I lost need of them centuries ago.”

           Bucky’s interest was piqued at that. He wondered if he could find an easy way to slip love locks into conversation without a knife suddenly appearing between his fingers. Loki had been better about stabbing things in the house, but it was apparently a deeply ingrained instinct. He wondered if that was a common thing amongst Asgardians, but decided stabbing things when uncomfortable was likely unique to Loki.

           “And the sorcerer braid?” Shuri pushed as she laid Loki’s newly plaited hair to rest against her back and brushing the hair that remained loose over her shoulders.

           “It was considered womanish, and the All-Father… well, he did not command me to cut it off, but he heavily implied that was what he wanted.” Loki shrugged her slender shoulders. “Asgard, for all its technological advancement, is more ancient than you could comprehend. With such long lives and memories, change is slow to come. I was the second son of Odin, and expected to stay that way. Mother was accepting of me in any of my forms and Thor… well, he tried.” She snorted delicately, fingers tracing along her new braids. “He is very much a product of our culture, my brother. The best and worst parts of it. He does not understand me, and has often dismissed my use of guile and magic as being worth less than his skills as a warrior. Even so, he protected me as he could.”

           “No one can mess with my sister except for me?” Shuri asked with a half-smile. Loki smiled back.

           “Something like that.”

           “You gals ready for supper?” Bucky interjected at last, stepping fully into the living room. Loki and Shuri sported near-identical grins that set alarm bells ringing in Bucky’s head. “Whatever you’re both thinking, I’m already saying n—”

            He found himself surrounded by wisps of cloud and tugged over to the couch, where he was promptly tackled by the Princess of Wakanda. When the cloud retreated and resumed swirling around above them, Shuri was perched on the back of the couch above him, hanks of his hair in her hands, while Loki was sitting across his lap, with his hand gripped in both of hers.

             “Oh, come on…” he groaned-heartedly, but made no struggle as Shuri expertly tucked his hair into tight plaits. Loki grinned and pulled a silver cord out of thin air, passing it to Shuri, who hummed approvingly.

              “We shall all look very fine for supper.” Loki said, toying idly with Bucky’s hand while Shuri worked.

               “Yeah, very fine. Fancy braids and dirty clothes.” Bucky snorted, then felt a slap to his shoulder from above.

               “Speak for yourself, White Boy, I am a solid ten today.”

                Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s fingers, then tilted her head back to watch her magic cloud spin itself out into intricate formations, everything from individual snowflakes to geometric patterns to a horse galloping through the air.

                “Don’t fret, my dear. It will all be very proper.” Bucky quirked and eyebrow at her, but Loki’s smile remained both content and enigmatic, and she said nothing more until Shuri finished her work.

                “Done!” Shuri exclaimed and jumped down from her perch. Loki conjured a mirror, and Shuri made much of having Bucky turn his head every which way so he could see the details woven into his hair. There were 3 main braids, he saw, with one straight down the middle of his head and the other two being thicker and fuller on either side. Filling in between the braids seemed to be a pattern of loose half moons. In the front, his hair was tucked back neatly- not so tight that it pulled at his scalp, but tight enough that he was sure nothing would be dislodged if he gave his head a shake.

                “Impressive.” He granted Shuri, who grinned. “Now can we eat?”

                “Impatient.” Loki scolded as she stood. She pulled Bucky to his feet and gave her mischievous grin, then reached towards him with green-glowing hands. He stood still as the familiar sensation passed over him, the magic flowing gently and swirling around as he felt his simple pants and shirt change. The material became more silky, the shirt lengthened to fall to his mid-thighs, the pants similarly lengthening and becoming looser around his calves. His right sleeve hung wide around his forearm while his left sleeve receded to an inch and a half of silk, leaving his bereft shoulder bare.  There was an odd sensation as the fabric tugged itself into place, clinging to his broad shoulders and back but still feeling loose and free. He heard Shuri blow out a low whistle when the magic receded.

                “Daaaaaamn, White Boy, look at you…” She gave him an appreciative look and reached out immediately to grab his sleeve, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “This… it isn’t silk, but it’s so…”

                “It is silk, actually, just not the sort you would find in this realm.” Loki said, stepping back with a small smile.

                “The White Wolf looking lovely in Space Silk, we’ll have to take him to Coachella or Fashion week…” Shuri was grinning and gesturing at Bucky’s outfit. He looked down at himself, noting that his clothes had also changed color, no longer white and black but instead a deep blue with silver trimmings, and across his chest a great silver wolf was ready to run.

                “We will be taking him no such place.” Loki declared. “This is not an outfit to share with the masses.”

                “Alright, alright, enough.” Bucky was blushing lightly. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

                “Of course not, Bucky. You are mine, though.” Loki’s smile was now almost predatory, her fingers dancing down his arm. Bucky blushed deeper.

                “There is a child in the room, you know.” Shuri complained, but was still smiling. Even so, Bucky straightened and stepped away from Loki, who sent him a challenging look with an arch of her regal brows. Shuri bounced impatiently. “Do me now!”

                “I thought you were a solid ten today.” Loki teased, but turned to consider Shuri in her turn. “This is no illusion—I will be changing your clothes. I trust you’re not overly attached to these?”

                “I can get these anywhere.” Shuri waved off her crop-top, skirt, and boots easily. “When will I ever get another chance at clothes made with space magic?”

                Loki grinned and raised her hands again, Bucky watching with fascination as a green glow enveloped Shuri, who giggled at the sensation, and when the glow faded Shuri was clad in a soft green dress with sleeves that flared out from just above her wrists, complementing her skin tone nicely. The skirt varied in length, at its shortest stopping at the middle of her left thigh and then lengthening from there, winding up at her lower calf behind her right leg. The inner trimmings of the dress were a darker green, with white and gold leaf shapes in the sleeves, around the skirt, and working up to the tunic-like collar. Shuri twirled, grinning as the skirt whipped around her legs. Her braids now had gold cuffs at the crown of her head, and the shell necklace she’d been wearing remained unchanged. Her boots were earth tones laced with gold and came up to her knees.

                “Nice, Princess.” Bucky said approvingly as she twirled again, seeming fascinated by the skirt.

                “The colors are changing!” Shuri exclaimed, examining the fabric hanging from her wrists and twirling around her legs. “How is it doing that?”

                “Magic.” Loki said smugly, laughing as the princess gave another twirl. Indeed the colors did change from a light green to a darker green, bordering almost on blue, with every movement Shuri made.

                “Don’t just say that!” Shuri wailed. “It’s something in the material, something activated by light or movement, it’s not just magic!”

                Bucky and Loki both laughed.

                “Well, you seem to have answered your own question.” Loki chuckled.

                “But—”

                “You can take it to your lab after supper, kid.” Bucky said, silencing her. He raised an eyebrow at Loki. “Well then?”

                “Ah, of course.” Loki waved her hand, and the cloud that had been dancing around the ceiling swept toward her and surrounded her, seeming to settle on her like a second skin. There were some flashes of color and suddenly Bucky’s heart was in his throat because Loki was wearing the sky, or at least that’s what it looked like. Her dress seemed to float around her, seemed to be made of cloud for a moment before it settled, draping elegantly over her. Wisps of silvery-blue material rested just off her shoulders, folds of fabric crossing over each other and draping over her breasts before tapering into a thin silver belt at her waist, from which layers of floaty fabric flowed down over her legs, tracing their shape. The dress did not seem to stop so much as hover above her ankles, the material seeming to be the move idly like the cloud had been over the ceiling. The material seemed to shimmer with every breath Loki took, colors drifting across it like clouds in the sky.

                “Glory be to Bast!” Shuri breathed, reaching out before checking herself. “Can I touch?”

                “You can.” Loki tossed her hair over her shoulder, allowing Shuri to take a bit of the skirt into her hands.

                “It hardly feels like I’m holding anything.” The girl marveled, allowing the material to slip through her fingers. “It’s as though it’s there one moment, and not there the next… it’s like holding the breeze, almost. What is it made out of? And don’t say—”

                “Magic.” Loki laughed at Shuri’s exasperated face but did not tug her skirt away from the princess’s inquisitive hands. Instead she looked to Bucky with an almost ethereal smile and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest. His mouth was dry. Loki was always beautiful but right now, looking at him like that, her bare shoulders relaxed and unblemished before him, and it took every ounce of will power to remember that Shuri was in the room and dinner was on the table and he could not sweep the goddess into his arms and off to bed. He cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him, grateful for the longer shirt that Loki had given him.

                “You’re amazing, _dorogoya._ ” He breathed, then held out his arm to her. “If I may escort you to dinner, ladies?”

                Shuri and Loki both laughed and Loki looped her arm through Bucky’s, with Shuri walking on his other side.

                “You’re a lucky man, Bucky Barnes, escorting two Princesses to dinner.” Shuri teased.

                “Gotta be the luckiest in the world.” He agreed, smiling as Loki kissed his cheek.

                In the end it was a little silly, the three of them in all their finery crowding around their small kitchen table to eat the simple stew Bucky’d made. Shuri laughed and squealed as she kept trying to avoid splashing anything on her new gown, Loki kept rearranging the silverware every time they looked away, and Bucky had eyes only for his Goddess of Mischief. After a while, Loki let out a whistle that seemed to send a green wave through the window, and minutes later, just as Bucky was setting out fruit and pound cake for dessert, Loki disappeared out the door. Shuri and Bucky had less than a moment of confusion when the door opened and—

                “Are you serious right now?”

                “It did not seem fair to leave him out of our supper.” Loki sniffed at Bucky, allowing Einar to follow behind her, his mane braided with green and blue ribbons throughout, and a small black top hat resting between his ears. His saddle was bigger and had intricate patterns carved now into the leather.

                _Tricksy-Friend-Loki feelssmells like Earthsweetsoft. Made me more handsome than Uppity Rhinos._ Einar turned his mismatched eyes towards Bucky’s incredulous face. _You made me a special treat, Hurt-Friend-Bucky?_

                Bucky’s mouth opened and closed like a guppy. There was a goddamn horse (a beloved, almost human, precious horse, but still a goddamn horse) in his kitchen, dressed up for church.

                “He did, Einar!” Shuri chirped, scooping up a plate and walking up to the horse. “Cake and fruit for you, my friend.”

                “To be eaten outside. And not off of a plate we eat off of.” Bucky finally said.

                _I am not dirty, Hurt-Friend Bucky._ Einar ate up the dessert enthusiastically. _And I allow you in my house all the time._

                “He does,” Loki agreed, stroking Einar’s neck. “You should be more considerate, Bucky Barnes.”

                “Men can be like that sometimes.” Shuri shook her head sadly, kissing Einar’s nose as he finished his treat.

                “Child, you are far too young to have such views.” Loki admonished gently. Then, after a pause— “You’re not wrong though.”

                This set Einar to wheezing and Shuri to giggling, and Bucky honestly was not having any of this.

                “Dismissing me so easily, huh?” Bucky hefted himself to his feet and walked over, wrapping his arm around Loki’s waist, shivering as the sky gown seemed to give way for him. He met Einar’s gaze and dropped his head onto Loki’s shoulder, chuckling. “I’m not gonna win this one. Einar, you’re the only horse allowed inside, alright? And only here in the entrance. And wipe your hooves before you come in, okay?”

                _I will never allow anyone else to invade our home._ Einar swore. _Only us._

                “Awww…” Shuri cooed, but Bucky and Loki smiled.

                “Yeah, bud, only us. You’re a horse of a different color.”

                “He is.” Loki agreed, and then her nose crinkled as she grinned her sharky grin. Then, suddenly Einar shifted from his normal Dun coloring to bright green, and then to pink. Einar squealed and bucked, kicking a hole in the wall before escaping the house, his coat still changing from color to color. “Oh dear.”

                _TRICKSY! TRICKSY TRICKSY TRICKSY-FRIEND-LOKI!_ Einar wailed as he kicked and reared outside. _I LIKE MY COAT!_

                Loki laughed and waved the spell away, unfolding herself from Bucky’s arms to go placate the now distressed horse. Bucky stared in despair at the new hole in the wall, and Shuri was laughing so hard she could barely hold herself up, juice from the fruit splattered across the chest of her dress.

                “You will never be bored, Bucky Barnes.” Shuri said eventually, watching Einar chase Loki around, Loki seeming to almost float over the grass.

                “Nah, I guess not.” Bucky looked around the messy kitchen, then out at Loki and Einar. “I suppose the mess is worth it.”

                Shuri picked up a wet piece of fruit from the floor and flicked it at him, chuckling as it met his cheek. “More than worth it, I hope.”

                Bucky sighed as the fruit stuck to his cheek. “I don’t know what it is about people that makes ‘em think it’s a good idea to start this with me.”

                “Start wha—” Shuri did not finish her sentence before she was met with a face full of whipped cream. As it dripped off her face, she blinked at Bucky in shock.

                “If you can’t beat ‘em…” He gave his one armed shrug, and then he and Shuri both scrambled for ammunition.

                The chaotic night came to an end only after Einar had retreated to his shed and Loki returned to the kitchen, where the table was now upturned with Bucky keeping cover behind it, tossing various contents from the ice box at Shuri, who was shrieking and throwing handfuls of cereal from the pantry, sheltering behind that door. Loki grinned and quietly hovered water in the air above both of them, waiting for a moment when they both popped out of their respective covers before she dropped the water on their heads.

                Drenched and unwilling to engage in battle with a magic wielding mischief goddess, Shuri and Bucky quickly gave up the ghost. Loki cleaned Shuri up before sending the young princess on her way, practically skipping towards her hoverbike. Then she turned her attention to Bucky, who was sat on the floor looking at the mess around him.

                “Come now, you know I’ll set it to rights.” She said. She extended her hand to help him up, but Bucky instead yanked her down next to him, laughing as she scrambled on the slippery floor. She met his challenge and pressed him back against the upturned table, pressing her lips to his. Bucky groaned as she straddled his lap, her gown floating up over her hips to accommodate them. He kept his hand on the small of Loki’s back, moaning at how the cloud like material seemed to barely be a barrier between their skin, sucking on her bottom lip.

                “Been driving me crazy half the night, doll.” He mumbled as he pulled back for a breath.

                “Oh?” Loki rolled her hips, and Bucky gasped at the warm heat teasing him through the silk of his pants. “I thought I was meant to be the crazy one.” Suddenly, Bucky twisted his hips and Loki was flat on her back on the floor, Bucky cradled between her legs.

                “Nearly lost it when you dressed yourself in this cloud.” He whispered into her ear, making her shiver under him. “If we hadn’t had company, would’ve taken you to bed right then…” He bucked his hips against her, both of them moaning. Then, with pupils blown wide, Loki’s kiss swollen lips ticked up into a smile. Bit by bit, the gown seemed to evaporate off of her, turning once more into a cloud that drifted lazily above them until Loki lay completely nude under Bucky. She arched her back, pressing her breasts up against Bucky’s chest.

                “Take me to bed, then.” She whispered.

                And Bucky did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one is the last one, for realsies! Then onto the next in the series at some point soon. Catch ya on the flip side!


	17. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before, there is fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been busy and distracted lately, and therefore have not updated anything. I felt bad, so here is basically the first half of the final chapter. I hope to have the second half up in the next two weeks-if not, it will certainly be up at some point. I promise to never abandon this story or this series. Now go forth and enjoy some winterfrost floof.

                It was the chill pressed against his side that woke Bucky up. Slowly he opened his eyes and glanced down at his lover. Loki was blue again, and appeared to be male, or at the very least was lacking breasts. Bucky would have to ask, when Loki woke—this transformation wouldn’t have been purposeful, after all, simply a result of Loki’s exhausted magic. A slow grin crossed Bucky’s face as he recalled just _how_ Loki had become exhausted—from the clothes (the long shirt flung on the other side of the room, the pants crumpled just inside the door where they’d left them in their hurry to get to bed), the fun they’d had at dinner… and then the fun after, when they’d left the kitchen splattered with food and tumbled into bed together, finally, _finally_ making love. Several times, even, and Bucky hadn’t even known he could do that anymore, but Loki dragged it out of him with every movement her hips, every moan, every press of their lips together. Bucky began to stroke Loki’s cool, ridged back, absently tracing the lines. His brow furrowed as he came over a rougher patch of skin in the center of Loki’s upper back, slightly to the left of his spine. He turned his head, nestling his chin in Loki’s hair, mindful of the horns.

                Most of Loki’s back was the same shade of blue as the rest, but where Bucky’s fingers were tracing the skin was an angry purple, like a scar that had healed badly. Bucky frowned and kissed Loki’s hair.

                “Mmm… still dark outside. Go back to sleep.” Loki’s voice grumbled.

                “Didn’t mean to wake you, doll.” Bucky said, grinning. “Hey, before you go back to sleep—” Loki groaned but picked up their head, red eyes meeting Bucky’s blue.

                “I just want to know, um, how are you feeling today? Gender wise. I don’t want to mess up.” Bucky explained.

                “Can’t you… oh, shit.” Loki, now more awake, must have noticed the transformation. “You must be freezing.”

                “A little chilly, but I don’t mind. I just want you comfortable.” Bucky tightened his hold on his lover.

                “I’m a woman, still, I think.” Loki said finally. She was frowning. “I stretched my limits yesterday. It will take time until I am able to change back.” Bucky did not like that apologetic tone.

                “ _Dorogoya,_ you don’t have to change for anyone but yourself. I won’t stop loving you because your body doesn’t match your gender, or because you’re all of the sudden blue. We talked about this.”

                “We did, I know.” Loki buried her head more into the crook of Bucky’s neck and shoulder, and Bucky once again tilted his head to avoid the horns catching his skin. “It is… it is merely difficult. Difficult for me to trust anyone with this, even you. I do not doubt your love, I only… I do not wish to repulse you. And now here you have me, a woman with a man’s voice, and no soft curves, eyes like blood, nothing warm about me at all… and I’m not even sure what you might find beneath these blankets.”

                “Well…” Bucky gave a toothy grin. “I could go exploring, let you know what I find.” Slowly enough for Loki to stop him, he rolled them over and began dropping kisses down cool blue skin, making his way down her flat chest. He paused at another angry purple patch, seeming to match the one that was on her back. Loki was still and quiet as Bucky pressed a gentle kiss to the scar. “You alright?”

                “I am… I don’t know what I am. Amazed.” Loki tugged Bucky up for a kiss, moaning as his sleep-warm skin pressed against her cool flesh, sending a shiver through both of them. “I’d never thought to feel beautiful like this.” She ran her fingers through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky felt a swell of pride at having made her feel this way. He kissed her face, one kiss at the base of each horn, then feathering his lips over her eyes and her high cheekbones. He glanced out the window to see the sky was beginning to lighten.

                “Well, get used to it.” He sat up. “Come on, gorgeous, we have a kitchen to clean, before Einar starts getting hungry.”

                “I’m not ready to clean it yet.” Loki complained, folding her arms. “My magic needs time and food to replenish.”

                “So we’ll clean it without magic and then make some breakfast.” Bucky rolled out of bed to pull clothes out of his dresser. He tossed boxers and a t-shirt at Loki, then began to dress himself, pulling on pants and a shirt. When he looked back, Loki was pouting at him, clutching the garments.

                “It will be difficult to clean by hand, the way we left it. We could just leave it, and make breakfast soup.”

                “No way. I don’t need any bugs in the house. Besides, you’re the one who decided to invite Einar in.” Bucky knelt on the bed, stealing another kiss. “I’d have cleaned it up last night, but I was pleasantly distracted.”

                Loki kissed back, then pulled the shirt Bucky had tossed her over her head.

                “It truly does not bother you. Not the skin,” she clarified as Bucky’s eyes widened in exasperation. “I know that you are not bothered by my skin, or my eyes. I mean—does the chill not bother you? I am relaxed right now, but I know there is a distinct temperature difference between us. And I… I think I have fangs. Or, at least, my teeth feel sharper.”

                “They are sharper.” Bucky confirmed. “Especially your canines. But as long as you don’t bite me when you’re like this, it doesn’t bother me—they’re not sharp enough to hurt me without you trying.”

                “But, the temperature—”

                “Doesn’t bother me. I spent a long time in cryofreeze, and most of the time when I was out of it I was in Russia. Cold doesn’t get to me—actually, when the dog days of summer really start you can be like my own personal ice pack.” Bucky smiled, then became more serious. “Or, wait… does it bother you? Is it uncomfortable when I kiss you, am I too hot for you?”

                Loki burst out laughing, and after a moment Bucky covered his face, turning bright red but also chuckling.

                “You’re hot aplenty, Bucky Barnes.” She chuckled. Bucky groaned with embarrassment and Loki turned predatory, pulling his arm away from his face, pressing his hand against her chest. Bucky noticed remotely that not only was her chest completely flat, but she lacked nipples altogether. “You set my heart aflame…”

                “Alright, alright, yuk it up.” Bucky grumbled, but pulled Loki close for another kiss. “Now get dressed. We have a kitchen to clean.” He was treated to another pout of Loki’s indigo lips, but pulled away. “A little manual labor is good for the soul. Might even convince you to not bring horses into the kitchen.”

                “Einar is not just any horse.” Loki protested, but straightened the shirt Bucky had given her and reached for the boxers. “Ah, I was not kidding when I said I was not certain what is down there.” She gestured at her lap, still hidden beneath the blanket. “I don’t know what it looks like, I’ve never wanted to. I just know it feels… different.” Loki looked down. “I trust you, Bucky, I do. But I would prefer it if you… not look, while I dress. I’m not ready for anyone to see yet. Not even me.”

                “No problem, doll.” Bucky turned around and looked out the window to see Einar grazing at the far end of the field, the tiny top-hat still nestled between his ears. He smiled, a rush of affection for the old horse flowing through him.

                “Alright then.” Bucky turned around to find Loki dressed in his boxers and white t-shirt. There was half an inch of blue tummy showing between the shirt and boxers—Loki was a couple of inches taller than he was, normally, and there seemed to be slightly more of a difference when she was in Jotun form. The boxers hung low on slender hips, and hairless blue legs extended down to slim feet, the lines on her skin seeming to trace the muscles perfectly. Bucky swallowed.

                “Bucky?” There was a note of self-consciousness in Loki’s voice. That wouldn’t do.

                “You should wear my clothes more often, _dorogoya_.” He said honestly, unable to keep the hint of possessiveness out of his voice.

                “ _Dorogoi._ ” Loki said, with a hint of uncertainty. “ _Dorogoi_ feels… better.”

                “ _Dorogoi._ ” Bucky wrapped an arm around Loki’s waist, leading them both out of the bedroom and down the hall to the messy kitchen. “Everything alright?”

                “Sometimes it is hard to tell what is right for me.” Loki shrugged. “Shuri told me that many… non-binary people, she called it, identify as neither male nor female, or sometimes as both. I’ve always called it ‘feeling in between,’ and I usually present as male then, but it doesn’t feel quite right either. Shuri says there are many genders and pronouns on Earth.” Loki paused in front of their upended table and righted it. “She promised to bring me books on the subject next time she visits. But for now… I suppose just assuming I’m a man until I say otherwise seems simplest. It’s how I’ve always lived.”

                “Whatever makes you happy, doll. Now…” Bucky fetched a mop and bucket from the closet. “Time to get to work.”

                Though Loki grumbled through much of the process, cleaning the kitchen did not take as long as it might have. Bucky flicked soapy water at him whenever he complained to loudly, and Loki insisted on teasing Bucky with every slip of blue skin he could, from reaching up to place things on their shelves to reveal more of his stomach to bending at the waist to pick up detritus from Bucky and Shuri’s food fight, showing off well defined legs. Bucky wasn’t sure what was more attractive—Loki in his clothes, or the increasing confidence Loki moved with while in his Jotun form. Either way, Loki scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the pantry door, his tongue poking out between sharpened teeth, was a sight Bucky would treasure.

                “Einar must be getting impatient by now.” Loki announced, collapsing onto a now sparkling clean chair. “You’d better give him breakfast.”

                Bucky glanced out the kitchen window, bringing the Breakfast Soup to its second boil. Einar was looking towards the house now, and Bucky waved to him.

                “He’ll keep while we have our Soup. Then we can both go give him breakfast.” When Loki was quiet behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, taking in the pursed indigo lips. “He’s not gonna care, doll. He’ll know it’s still you.”

                “I suppose.”

                “Well, I _know_ , which trumps your ‘suppose.’ So quit pouting and get the mugs ready.” Bucky ordered. After a moment’s more hesitation, Loki did as Bucky asked.

                “It’s too hot.” Loki complained, setting his mug down before the liquid could touch his lips. “I’m too sensitive to hotter temperatures in this form to enjoy this properly.” The prince was frowning.

                “So, we make it less hot.” Bucky said easily. “Throw some ice in it. It’ll taste a little watery, but you’ll still get your breakfast soup.”

                Loki did as suggested and smiled when he took a sip.

                “It’s perfect.”

                As it turned out, Bucky had been right—Einar had not been frightened by Loki. He’d been startled, he’d inspected this new form thoroughly, but all told he was more interested in receiving his breakfast. Loki’s relief must have been palpable, because Einar had snorted and pressed his head against Loki’s chest.

                _You should know better, Tricksy-Friend-Loki. You do not upset me in any form… except perhaps if you were to be a fly, as in the story you told me. That would be irritating because flies are bitey. BlueColdSharp does not mean bitey, does it?_

                “No.” Loki said after a moment, gently passing his fingers over Einar’s mane. Einar shook off the bits of frost left behind.

                _Cold, Tricksy-Friend-Loki. Do that again after we run._

                And Loki had, awed despite himself as a sweaty Einar pressed enjoyed slightly clawed fingers brushing through his mane, and insisted that Loki stick his finger in the water bucket. Bucky had also come to lean against him after dismounting Einar, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

                “Told ya so.” He’d said, and Loki’d given a playful shove.

                By the time he and Bucky were slapping together sandwiches for lunch, Loki’s magic had recovered thoroughly, especially without the drain of keeping up the Aesir glamour. Even so, Loki did transform himself to the form he’d grown up in as they sat to eat.

                “I know I do not have to, not with you… or Einar, it seems.” Loki explained. “But I prefer this. I find the red eyes to be especially unsettling.”

                Bucky raised his glass of water in acknowledgement.

                “I do adore your greens, doll.” Loki smiled at his lover, planning to take him to bed later that night and thoroughly debauch him. He allowed some heat into his gaze and Bucky matched him, raising his brows and biting at his plump lower lip. The Norns were good to Loki of late.

                Except they weren’t, because the Norns were vindictive shits who didn’t give a snake’s spit about Loki’s heart or his happiness. The raven from Thor came just as they were washing the dishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does Thor have to say? We'll see soon!  
> Also, a note on gender: I've always viewed Loki as being genderfluid, and that is what is portrayed in this story. I've asked some of my nonbinary friends to help me get into Loki's head space for this, as I am cis and felt woefully unprepared to do so (the google is only so much help). So I want to give a big, HUGE shout out to my nb friends for helping me with this, and also if any of my readers are non binary and think my portrayal of Loki's fluidity rings as.. wonky or fake or something, please do let me know.
> 
> As always thanks for reading, and reviews give me nourishment.  
> EDIT: 7/28/19 I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU ALL I PROMISE  
> MORE WILL COME SOON IVE JUST HAD A HARD TIME


	18. Slave of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princely duty draws Loki away, and Bucky reflects on the silence he leaves behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven't uploaded in like 2000 years, (lots of personal stuff happening) and it was one of my goals today to put SOMETHING out, so here it is. It's short, but it's here.

              Thor had been sending occasional updates to Loki about the situation with New Asgard and the UN. Usually it was a short note, signed with a scribbled rune or, more common of late, a simple ‘—T’. The humans really were rubbing off on him. Loki would reply with quick bits of advice weaved with snark. This missive was similarly short, but rather than containing updates or questions, it had a formal statement.

                “ _It is done. Be ready to leave, will be retrieving you at sunset. You will speak before the UN. More when I see you. Don’t make a mess of this, Loki. – Thor, King of Asgard.”_

                “Shit.” Loki uttered aloud.

                “Bad news?” Bucky asked, standing up from the table and coming to look over Loki’s shoulder. Loki passed him the note, frowning.

                “It appears I’ve been summoned.” Loki said as Bucky read. “I believe I am meant to go alone and make my case before your world leaders.”

                “T’Challa will have your back.” Bucky said confidently. “And if you want me there, Shuri says she thinks I’m safe to be around people.” Loki grimaced and leaned back against the counter.

                “Thor said he is ‘retrieving’ me. If T’Challa was going to fully involve himself in this, I’d be going in with a Wakandan escort to meet my brother. The political situation surrounding both of us is complicated and individual.” Loki heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

                “I don’t have to be obvious in order to be there. I’m kind of a super soldier spy, remember?”

                “As though I could forget.” Loki gave Bucky a small smile, hoping it would soften the words. “But even if you did come, certain parties would have to be informed. Parties who would no doubt feel the need to confide discomfort in their most trusted loved ones. Even if all these people could be fully trusted to not upset the negotiations for Asgard… once more than one person knows a thing, it is no longer a secret. It is information. This situation requires a delicate touch. A silver tongue… and no distractions.”

                Bucky’s face fell for a moment, but before Loki could begin to worry, he nudged the god’s shoulder.

                “So you’re saying I’d distract you?”

                Loki laughed and thanked the Norns for allowing this man into his life.

                “Undoubtedly. You’re a distraction right at this very moment, and all we’re doing is preparing lunch.”

                “Am I a pleasant distraction?”

                “… I think we might skip lunch.”

                And with that, Loki tugged Bucky by the hand towards his room, all thoughts of food and Thor forgotten for the moment. He would cherish this, these scant few hours before the other shoe inevitably dropped. He would cherish this because the press of fingers into his hip, the brush of long hair against his chest, and the heat of the man he loved between his legs was worth more than any Infinity Stone, and he’d be damned if he missed a minute of it.

                When Thor came at sunset, alone and looking serious (though he spared a smile for Bucky), Loki was ready. All of his things were tucked into his various interdimensional pockets. He’d given Einar a “boost”, stroking the horse’s neck at his distressed whinny. He’d cupped Bucky’s neck and kissed his lips chastely before joining his brother.

                “Count yourself lucky,” Loki’d said before he departed. “There’s nothing quite like a building full of politicians to drive one mad.”

                “Thought you already were.” Bucky returned, a thin-lipped smile on his face. Loki half-smiled back.

                “Off to work then.” Thor broke in, giving a wave before climbing onto the hover car, gesturing to Loki impatiently.

                “Off to work.” Loki said quietly. He looked towards Bucky one last time.

                “I’ll be here.” Bucky replied, and then Loki was gone, he and Thor disappearing into the distance. Once he was certain he could not be seen, Bucky allowed himself to slump back against the house, mouth twisting in displeasure and in rebellion against the tears that seemed determined to pool in his eyes.

                “Come on, Barnes, it’s not like he’s gone forever.” He told himself, covering his eyes briefly. Not forever, he truly didn’t believe Loki would do that to him. Not intentionally. But of course, there was the UN and the World Council and the Avengers to consider, all of whom could put restrictions on Loki. On who he could see, where he could go… and Loki would have to follow along, at least for a while. He’d said that he would not be locked up like an animal, but for the good of his people… who knows what he might be asked to do.

                Bucky turned to go inside and grimaced more. When their lovemaking was finished and the afterglow had faded, Loki’d turned to Bucky, solemn faced and said he needed to pack. Bucky’d squeezed him tight to his chest for a moment, then let him go, electing to stay in bed rather than watch. Loki didn’t have much in the way of possessions, though odds and ends had found their place in the living room and Loki’s bedroom… there was even a pair of silk pants under Bucky’s bed that he was sure belonged to his lover. Still it was not much, and Bucky had not been prepared for how empty everything would feel.

                Like a ghost, Loki had left no trace behind. The kitchen was cleaner than it had been since the God of Mischief had stepped foot in it. Beyond, the living room was bare of any old leather bound tomes or throws made of some kind of space fabric that sent Shuri into a tizzy. Bucky tossed himself onto the couch, listlessly turning on the television. He clicked through the available options—nothing held his interest. Eventually he settled on a nature documentary just for there to be sound in the house.

                He’d spent years living in silence. He wasn’t sure when silence became something he could not quite live with anymore. On the screen, a shark breached water to snatch an unfortunate bird from the surface, and Bucky clicked it off. He heaved himself off the couch and paced back to his room, a knot of anxiety roiling somewhere between his throat and his chest. As the Soldier, and even as himself while he hid, he had maintained a constant vigilance, never once letting down his guard. Over the past months, he’d come to include Loki in that vigilance, guarding him as fiercely as he did himself, if not more so. Now Loki was away from him, with his mind focused on his people, and only his brother to watch his six… and Bucky was not convinced that Thor, much preoccupied himself, would be able to protect Loki from the many hidden threats that would no doubt be present. He should have insisted on going. He could have hidden, he was a goddamn super assassin, between his own skills and Shuri’s tech, a nudge from Loki’s magic… he’d have been virtually undetectable, free to keep surveillance on the Prince while he weaved words with his silver tongue. No need to tell Stark, or anyone else for that matter.

                To late for that though. Loki had made his reasons clear. It was just so frustrating, to not know what was happening, to be trapped here, helpless—

                There was a bang and Bucky jerked up, hand immediately going for a weapon before he spotted the large, familiar shape of Einar’s head against his window. Despite himself, he smiled.

                “Alright buddy, I’m coming.”

                Einar’s ears pricked forward, and the horse moved towards the front door, where Bucky met him. Einar was perfectly framed by the door, the tiny top hat Loki had once conjured for him clamped between his teeth. Bucky reached out and took it, grimacing slightly at the wear and tear from Einar’s powerful teeth. If Loki were here, he would fix it with a thought… but he wasn’t. Bucky shuddered, struck suddenly by the lack of Einar’s presence in his head. Even when Loki wasn’t directly facilitating their connection, he could always sense something, but now…

                Bucky was brought out of his thoughts by Einar snuffling his neck with a wet nose, startling a laugh out of him. Einar, at least, still seemed to know what he was thinking.

                “That was way too wet, buddy.” He admonished, knocking his head lightly against Einar’s.

                Einar snorted into his neck again, making Bucky squawk indignantly. Then the horse turned and walked away towards the field where they ran. After an impatient stomp of a hoof, Bucky followed him.

               Together, they ran, and hoped their Tricksy Prince was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next we will see how Loki is doing with the World Council and the Avengers, and wrap up some odds and ends. Epilogue to follow after that. Also please do keep leaving comments, it really cheers me up.


End file.
